


A Made Man

by areyouserial



Series: The Penthouse [3]
Category: Blue Bloods (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Idiots in Love, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Probably lots of phone sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-06-13 13:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 63,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15365250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouserial/pseuds/areyouserial
Summary: To accept is to believe in the realness of something. Jamie and Noble find themselves immersed in a reality they’re ready to stop denying. But it’s tangled and difficult and sometimes it’s easier to keep it a secret. Part 3 in a series (following The Penthouse and A Guy With A Secret), A Made Man follows Jamie Reagan and Noble Sanfino as they figure out how to accept something that’s anything but simple, but definitely real.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has come along, given this ship a chance, and sent me kind words about this story! 
> 
> Jamie and Noble have quite a road ahead of them. The story continues here with Part 3, picking up exactly one week after Jamie’s return to New York. (Be sure to read The Penthouse and A Guy With A Secret first). Enjoy!

**Preface**

 

“Who would hate me the most?”

Amused at Noble’s question, the clear, deep note of his voice floating through the speakers of my laptop, I cross my room to put a stack of folded t-shirts away. “No one,” I tell him. “You’re kind of unhateable, man. Why do you assume anyone in my family would hate you?”

“Ahh, lets see--” He starts, as if he’s choosing from a list of reasons.

“Alright, fair enough.” I chuckle. There’s so many layers to this arrangement, to Noble Sanfino and me and our low-key relationship, that I wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain it all to my family. Living thirty years never engaging in anything romantic with a man, never having a boyfriend, never suggesting to my Irish-Catholic family that I might be interested in one would be enough of a shock.

Add to that the fact that this man is someone I met while working undercover -- who’s the son of a pretty prominent  _capo_ in one of New York’s deeply rooted Italian crime families -- and it’s not exactly a love story I feel like reminiscing about at Sunday dinner:  _Yeah, so he has another identity in WITSEC because he and his sister agreed to testify against their whole family -- the one who put a hit out on me, and tried to kill him. And he shouldn’t even try to show his face in New York again, but he does anyway, and we meet up and go to dinner and spend the night together. Aren’t you happy for me, oh family comprised of a seriously intense amount of law enforcement?_

So that hasn’t happened yet.

With his computer in his kitchen, I see him making trips back and forth to the refrigerator before he stations himself at the counter to continue his chopping task. The distinct sound of his knife rhythmically slicing down onto his cutting board pauses for a moment with his next question. “Would your sister like me?” He wonders.

A half smile slants on my face as I consider it. “Yes. She’d be pretty sympathetic about what you had to go through. And I’m sure she’d be very... encouraging.”

“How so?”

Over a thoughtful deep breath, I ponder it and work to sort through the pile of laundry on my bed. “Of us. Not wanting me to miss out on something because I was, you know, scared to act on it. Plus she’d think you’re hot.”

“Nice,” he says appreciatively.

“And Danny wouldn’t hate you at all.”

“No?”

“He lives to bust my chops, so just side with him and you’ll be golden.”

We talk as if he’s going to meet my family sooner than later. But it’s more like we’re imagining, building a little world in the abstract  _someday_ where boy meets boy, boy falls for boy, boy brings boy home to meet Dad, and we get some kind of happy ending. It won’t happen, so I’d rather have the partial satisfaction of fantasizing about it instead.

“He’s probably the one I’d be most nervous about,” Noble admits.

“Nah,” I dismiss it. “Danny’s a softy when it comes down to it. If you’re gonna be nervous about anyone, it should be my dad.”

He groans. “Oh right. Your dad was in on that whole take-down, wasn’t he?”

“I mean, technically he’s in on everything.”

“How high up in the ranks is your dad, by the way?”

The question makes me pause before I slowly slide the dresser drawer closed. Scratching fingertips along my jaw, I turn back to face the laptop screen and ease onto my bed. “Pretty high up,” I laugh.

“Great,” he complains, sliding some sort of chopped vegetables off his cutting board and into a container before moving onto the next one.

I drag the computer onto my lap and sink down against my pillows. “He’s the Commissioner. Of the NYPD.” It feels weird to tell him because I never know what kind of significance that title holds for people who aren’t immersed in this cop life. “I don’t think I ever told you.”

His brows draw together and he narrows his gaze. “Like… what does that mean exactly?”

“The Commissioner is just… the one who oversees the whole department.”

“So he’s in charge.”

“Yeah.”

“Of the entire police department. Of New York City.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Dude.”

“I know. Don’t get hung up on it, though, it’s okay.”

“So… he’s like the  _don_ of the NYPD.”

A loud laugh rumbles in my chest and I tip back against the pillows. “If you want to think of it that way.”

“If the NYPD were the Italian mafia.” He chuckles. “Would that comparison not go over so well with him?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. When you meet him, give it a try,” I joke. “See what happens.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Speaking of, I need to head over there for dinner soon.”

He finishes up at the sink, dries off his hands on a dish towel and then turns to lean against the counter. “I bet they missed you last week.”

“Something tells me I’m going to catch heat for it, too.”

“Tell them you were getting your dick sucked by this hot landscaper in Miami--”

Swinging my arm across my face, I shake my head into the bend of my elbow. “Oh my god,” I groan.

“No. We did more than that. Don’t cheapen it.”

I just let my shoulders shake with weary laughter.

“See, I don’t have that problem,” he muses. “We managed to tell my whole family in one easy confession. Boom, done.”

My arm falls back down and I look at him on the screen, my lips flicking upward with a sad smile.

He’s right. Bianca is all he has anymore, a jarring one-eighty from the life he had, surrounded by dozens of people who considered him family, the ones who came out for him when he opened his restaurant back in New York, proud and even gracious toward me. To have that your whole life, then lose it entirely is something I can’t fathom.

“Yeah I guess your sister is a good one to have around.”

“I’m having dinner with her tonight,” he says. “I’m sure she misses you.”

“What about you, huh?” I murmur.

I see the little quirk at this lips as he scratches fingers at the back of his dark wavy hair. “I miss you.” His voice gets sort of cute. Not sickenly so, but if there was someone else who overheard him, they’d certainly notice the shift in his tone. The low softness of it swells in my chest and makes it ache for a moment. “But you know that.”

“I miss you too,” I tell him.

“I’ll make you uncomfortable during dinner and text you explicit descriptions of the things I miss--”

With a knowing smirk, I nod in acceptance. “I bet you will.”

“So keep your phone on silent.” He directs a raised eyebrow at me with his warning and it amuses me.

“Why don’t you save it for when I get back home and we can talk later tonight?”

“Because I’m trying to achieve Jamie Reagan-level tease status. Some of us have to work at it.”

I laugh, already feeling the simmering pulse he’s able to elicit and it’s only going to heighten until I talk to him again. “Alright, you work at it. I’ll let you know how you do.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, well look who it is!” My brother Danny calls out from the top of my father’s driveway. Palming a basketball, he dribbles it once on the concrete before he stretches up and shoots over my sister’s head, sinking it in the hoop attached to the garage.

“Alright. Don’t start,” I mutter, but I feel the sideways grin on my face anyway as I make my way over.

“Mister Sunshine State in the house,” he goes on, letting Erin have her chance with the ball. He drops a firm hand on my shoulder in an attempt to rock me off my balance.

“Yeah, did you miss me?” I smirk, easily catching the ball against my chest when Erin passes it over. With a quick dip, I straighten up and shoot, following through as the ball makes a smooth  _swish_  into the net.

“Look at this kid,” Danny muses to his ever-present invisible audience. “What’s with you? You waltz up in here with that face and act like it isn’t suspect that you missed Sunday dinner last week.”

Coughing out a laugh in disbelief, I glance at Erin. “I didn’t do anything. What do you mean,  _what’s with_  me?”

She retrieves the basketball and props it against her hip. “Yes, we missed you.” She smiles, as if to finalize the discussion the way she alway does. “You want to play?”

“I just wanna know who goes to Miami,” Danny cuts in.

Needing something to distract me, I take the ball from Erin and dribble a few times as I back up a step. “Is it so unheard of?”

“For you? Yeah.”

“I’ve got friends, you know.” I make the cryptic admission as if Danny’s not going to take that information and grill me about it. How I’m going to duck out of an irritatingly expert detective and a prosecutor ganging up on me for a confession, I have no idea.

I see my brother and sister look at each other with this exaggerated  _give me a fucking break_  scoff just before I hook the ball one more time for another basket.

“I went with Vinny,” I add, figuring it sounds a little more believable. “He’s got family down there. I got a friend from law school who just moved there.” Then I shrug before I pass the ball over to Danny. That should convince them.

“Uh-huh,” he grunts before shooting the ball himself.

“What? I told you I was going,” I defend. “It’s not like I just didn’t show up to dinner and made it some big mystery. Quit trying to make it out like it was questionable.”

“Where’d you stay?” Erin wonders.

I swallow hard and watch as she leisurely bounces the ball a few times, then glances up at me from under an arched eyebrow. Fuck, I’m a terrible liar. This family, sometimes, I swear. “Vinny’s cousin’s house. I forget the neighborhood.”

“You go to the beach?”

“Of course.”

“Which beach?” Danny questions.

I look at him. “South Beach.”

“Yeah?” He nods.

“I mean we went all over.”

“So what, Surfside? Sunny Isles? Haulover Beach?”

I latch onto the last one because it sounded vaguely familiar, even though Noble and I spent exactly zero time at any beach. “Yeah, we were at Haulover for a while.”

“Really? So you and Vinny spent the day at a nude beach,” Danny says. “That sounds legit.”

“The  _fuck_ , what, do you work for Miami tourism or something? Suddenly you’re some expert?”

Danny smirks. He can needle me to this point so easily, I can’t stand it. “I’m just asking--”

“It was a quick trip.” I shrug.  “We saw some friends, went out for drinks, stopped by the beach for a few hours. It wasn’t a damn nude beach, so I don’t remember which one, man.”

“Alright--” Erin chimes in, holding up a hand. “Jamie’s young and single, Danny. If he wants to jet off to the beach one weekend, he can do that.” Then she looks at me with this attempt at assurance. “Danny’s just on your case because those days are behind him. He’s jealous.”

“Even in my single days, I never took off on weekend getaways to freakin’ South Beach for no reason--”

“Yeah, just Atlantic City to go get drunk on the boardwalk so that dad couldn’t do anything about it,” I shoot back. “At least I didn’t get a summons for public urination.”

“Ha!” Erin chirps. “Yeah, God only knows what you would have gotten into on a nude beach in Miami when you were single, Danny. You couldn’t even stay out of trouble on the Jersey shore.”

“Some of us were busy defending our country with two tours in Fallujah--”

“OH!” Both Erin and I tip our heads back with a dramatic groan.

“Excuse me.” I fix him with this dubious look, my brows furrowing as I mock him with a stiff-handed salute. “Maybe those tours left you with a selective memory, but go ahead and believe that.”

He pushes my hand away, grumbling his comeback. I turn my head to sputter a laugh, twisting from his grip to dribble the basketball. “You asshole,” he chuckles, hovering over to guard me before he quickly steals the ball. He spins around, throwing his elbow back at my chest before he makes his shot.

Amused, I go for the ball, dribbling as I circle him. With a crossover dribble, I pass the ball once between my legs. “Get off my case and I wouldn’t have to be an asshole.”

Just as I shift my weight to line up another shot, he blocks me and swats the ball away. “Tell the truth and I wouldn’t have to get on your case,” he reasons.

I spread my hands to glance at Erin. “Can I get a lawyer present?”

“Leave him alone, Danny,” she laughs.

He brings the ball into his chest as it expands with heavier breaths and points at her. “You know, when we were kids, you used to take my side.”

“There’s no sides!” She insists. “You’re hassling Jamie just to hassle him. What do you think he was off doing?”

“You wanna see my boarding pass?” I offer. “I’m not lying about where I was.”

“Oh, I believe that’s where you went. I just don’t think it was entirely innocent.”

I manage a smug look just to mess with him. “I never said it was.”

“So what?” Erin wonders.

“He’s the good one, that’s all,” Danny gestures to me. “I don’t need my kid brother getting into some shenanigans he can’t handle and I have to go bail him out.”

“Fine. When I get myself into any  _shenanigans_ , I’ll call Erin.”

Danny passes the ball hard and I catch it against my chest. “We’ll see about that.”

My sister rolls her eyes and backs away. “I’m going inside to see if they need help. Pizza will probably be here any minute.”

I turn back to him with open arms. “Are we gonna play, or what?”

“Alright, Miami Heat, let’s see it. We’ll play to seven.”

* * *

 

“Uncle Jamie, I missed you. But you smell.” Nicky, my sixteen year-old niece -- Erin’s only child-- informs me by my side at the dining room table.

“Yeah, we're in the same boat, Nick.” Danny's wife complains. I glance over to see Linda nudge her elbow into Danny's side. Our impromptu one-on-one left him to park himself at the table with his dress shirt unbuttoned over his white t-shirt, the both of us undeniably sweaty. “Did you guys really have to play that hard before dinner? Thought you were just shooting around.”

“Jumpshot here was playing to win.” Danny gestures his wine glass toward me. “I had get serious on him.”

“Not serious enough, old man,” I tease. “That was a swift defeat.”

“Listen to this one,” Danny muses, aiming a look at my father. “Give your youngest a little  _pride goeth before a fall_ , will you?”

“Sore loser,” I whisper, my brows drawing together to offer my brother a meaningful squint.

My dad chuckles. “As long as Jamie won fair and square. But yes, next time wash up a little before you sit down to dinner.”

“Ah, it's just pizza night,” my grandfather decides, seated to my right at the other end of the table. “I think a little competitive physical exertion is good for anyone. These days, people won't let boys just be boys.”

Unexpectedly, my chest feels hot from his words and I hold my breath a beat. It's a typical moment of Grandpa’s misguided nostalgia and it sits heavy with me. I know what he means. But I can’t help be reminded of his firmly etched conservative mindset, one that I have to wonder if I’d disappoint if he knew the truth.

With a smile, Nicky angles forward to talk across me. “That's sort of a problematic expression, Pop.”

“Don't give me that. You know what I mean.”

I take my time with a long gulp of ice water, then exhale hard before I turn to Nicky. “I'm sorry I smell.”

She scrunches her nose, making a face at me before I lean closer to her. She recoils with a giggle and complains, “Ugh, no!” Then nudges me away at my shoulder.

“Jamie's a little too sparky for me today,” Danny announces. “You got some kinda spring in your step that's got me--” And before he bites down on a forkful of salad, he offers me a playfully narrowed gaze which I return.

“Got you what?” I ask, over my glass.

Chewing his food, he simply makes a gesture where he points two fingers at his own eyes, then turns them my way.

I smile, glancing down and can't help the way my free hand passes over my mouth and up the side of my face. Then I rub the back of my neck as I study my plate. It's an easy tell to my brother, and I have to wonder if he would ever guess the things I'm guilty of.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adult content warning applies. :)

I had felt my phone buzzing against my thigh all evening while I was at my dad's house. But I wouldn't let myself look except once to verify the messages were from Noble. When I saw the number of alerts, assuming what he was up to, I quickly darkened the screen and put it away, a jumpy heat in my heartbeat.

I made it home, showered and put on clean clothes before I decided to find out what he was so eager to tell me.

It starts with a picture and for a second, I hold my breath because I don’t know if I’m ready to see it, even though I’m alone in my own house. But it’s simply a picture of him, a look on his face as if he’s confused or annoyed at his sister whose chin is propped on his shoulder beside him. She wears sunglasses and a wide grin and the two of them appear to be on some sort of restaurant patio. I read the message beneath it:

> **Noble:**  I tried to crop her out but she wouldn't let me.
> 
> **Noble:**  So hi, we miss you. But I miss you more. Come back.

I laugh softly, a little tug in my chest when I see his face, the way his eyebrow arches as he glances off to the side, his lips parted like he’s in mid-sentence.

That message had come earlier, and after about a two hour gap another string of them begins.

> **Noble:**  I guess it’s been a week right? For some reason, in my head, I thought I’d be chill about being apart from you for longer. But guess what I’m not and I miss that butt so if you could get it back down here, I’d appreciate it. 

> **Noble:**  Actually, I had a dream that you did. That you were in my bed. So imagine my disappointment when I woke up and you weren’t there. But damn it felt real. And I was hard just thinking I heard your breath in my ear.

I feel my eyebrow twitch at the last sentiment. I hadn't so much had dreams about him -- I rarely remember my dreams. But at night I'd lie in bed and think about him there. I hated that he wasn't. I spent  _one night_  with him last weekend and now I want it again so bad, my body was restless for it.

I’ve endured way longer -- shamefully longer -- stretches of time in my adult life where I wasn’t getting laid. But now I’ve gone a week and I’ve never been so damn incessantly turned on. The constant arousal had me jumpy. And it’s all because I know how good it could be and I craved it again, especially at night when I try to sleep.

Glancing down at my phone, I tap the screen to reply.

**Jamie:** So what are you going to do about it to make it real?

Then I toss my phone on the covers of my bed and head back out to turn everything off in the rest of the apartment. I make my way to bed and throw myself heavy onto the mattress, backing up against the pillows and retrieve my phone.

> **Noble:**  I’d get on a plane right now if jobs and shit weren’t an issue.

**Jamie:**  I know, what the fuck?

> **Noble:**  You tell me when you have a free weekend and I’ll get there if I can.

I swipe to my calendar app and look at my schedule. Typically, I work one Saturday shift a month. I’d also promised Erin I’d spend an afternoon helping Nicky learn to drive. So I settle on a couple of the soonest weekends around the ones that are already booked.

**Jamie:**  I could do the 19th or the 26th.

> **Noble:**  Alright. I’ll get back to you.

**Jamie:**  So what else happened in this dream? You can’t just throw it out there and not expect me to need details.

> **Noble:**  It was just a feeling.  No sequence of events, just like… you were there next to me.

**Jamie:**  Just laying there? Kinda bummed I wasn’t on top of you.

> **Noble:**  I save those thoughts for when I’m awake.

> **Noble:**  I am a fan of you on top of me.

**Jamie:**  Yeah I am too. I think about that a lot.

> **Noble:**  I’m such an ass grabber with you so it’s a good position for me to be in.

**Jamie:**  You are pretty handsy back there. That’s not a complaint.

> **Noble:**  You should see your ass, though. You can’t blame me.

With a shake of my head, I laugh softly, sinking further onto my back before I reply.

**Jamie:**  I’ve seen it, but I’m glad you appreciate it.

> **Noble:** I don’t know… the memory is fading… Maybe I need a picture.

**Jamie:**  I’m not sending you a picture of my ass. Don’t even try.

> **Noble:**  One buttcheek.

**Jamie:**  Considering your sister’s habit of helping herself to your phone? No way.

> **Noble:** Dammit. What can I get a picture of? Like your knee or something? I can work with that.

Amused, I run the edge of my finger along my bottom lip. On the screen, my thumb hovers the icon to call him over video and I quickly tap it, waiting while it connects.

In a moment, his face is there, soft in the glow of dim lamp light. His brow furrows and with a guilty glance to the side, opens his mouth.

“Dude,” he greets me. “I was just trying to sext this hot guy. I’m busy.”

I smirk. “Yeah? Well he’s probably lame and a tease. Talk to me instead.”

“Are you in bed?”

Holding my phone over my face, I arch my brow to peer back at my pillows. “Yes.”

“It’s like, nine o’clock. ”

“I'm tired, bro.” I chuckle, sliding a hand up my face to rub my eyes. “Gotta be at work early tomorrow.”

“I know, me too.”

“But I figure if you want to see something, you can see my face while I talk to you.”

“I miss your ass and your face equally, so I'll take it.”

I have to shake my head. “You get no ass pictures.  You have to come get it in person.”

Tipping his head back against his couch, he lets out a frustrated moan. The way it rumbles, the way his throat clenches when he does stirs my already eager arousal. “God I want it so bad,” he murmurs his complaint. “I'm definitely coming for it, so I hope you're ready.”

Sucking my antsy bottom lip beneath my teeth, a smile twitches my cheek. I shift on my bed, my insistent hard on urging me to tilt my hips down against nothing.  _Fuck_ , why can't it be him?

I arch a questioning brow. “Ready how?” I know what he means. That night in Miami I was drunkenly determined to take it all from him, to have him inside me only to freak out and not go through with it. I could have shut down, been traumatized by it all. But I wasn't, because Noble didn't pressure me or make me feel ashamed or like I was a disappointment. And that whole night solidified my trust in him.

Chalk it up to my drive to excel, but I came home pretty damn curious about ways to ensure I'd be able to go through with it if we found ourselves trying again.

“Whatever you are game for doing, I'm coming for it,” he tells me. “Even if we just make out for forty-eight hours, I'm down.”

I scoff. “You would not be.”

“Yeah, forget that. But seriously, I think about you every fucking night, Jamie--”

The low urgency of my name in his voice,  _god that voice_ , it's such a turn on. His confession makes my stomach flip.

“More than that,” he adds. “But definitely at night. I get hard thinking about everything we did, remembering everything. Even by myself this week--” He laughs softly, arching his head back again. “I come so damn hard when I think about you.”

“Fuck--” I mutter in a whisper, reaching down to stroke a hand over my shorts. Then clearing my throat, I reach over and flip the lamp off beside my bed. “Alright, now we’re getting somewhere.”

Noble’s low chuckle rattles through the phone. “You going to sleep on me?”

“Hell no. Keep talking.”

“Oh, my god. Did you turn off the light to jerk off?”

“Maybe I did.”

“That’s really cute and Catholic of you.”

“Shut up. Want me to keep the light on?”

“I mean, I can’t really see you, but that’s okay,” he says. “I can sort of see you, and it’s hot. So please continue.”

“What about you?”

“What  _about_ me?”

“Go get in bed,” I tell him.

He cuts me an amused gaze and then I see him get up from the couch. I see the inside of his house before he turns the corner and he’s in his room.

“Oh hey, I remember that room,” I muse, catching a glimpse of his dresser in the background. “It knows all my secrets.”

“Oh-ho, yeah it does.” With a smile, he reaches for the lamp and turns it off.

In the darkness, I see him set his phone on the nightstand. Then the faint jingle of his belt and the sound alone makes my throat hot. I hear him shift, getting rid of his jeans before he falls back on the bed and picks his phone up.

“You wanna hear one of my secrets?” His coy question sparks a heat deep in my core.

I stretch back and close my eyes. “Mm-hm. Preferably one that involves what you plan to do to me when you come back to New York.”

“ _Ah god_ ,” he says in an exhale. “What I plan to do? I want to shove you down on the bed, get on my knees and suck you off--”

“Shit--” I hiss in a shaky whisper. Then I can’t help blow out a breathy laugh at the blatant confession. Shifting, I dip my hand beneath the waist of my shorts and grasp my aching hard on and I waste no time with a needy tug on it.

“That's all I can fucking think about.” His hushed voice is raspy through the phone. I look and we can hardly see each other, but depending on how he moves, I catch the outline of his neck, the strong edge of his jaw in shadow. It heightens all the other senses and it’s just his voice and his intentions shooting my pulse straight to my cock.

My hand holding the phone just lets it slip onto the pillow beside me and I reach down. I adjust my shorts down and work myself in my fist, with the added sensation of my other hand. I’m not even trying to idly stroke and make it last longer. “Fuck,” I breathe out. “I wish you were here.”

“I am. I’m right there.” He murmurs his assurance and his it’s like I feel his hard exhales on my skin.

I imagine my hands are his. Pressing my lips together, I hum a broken grunt in my chest. I tip my head back, letting the noises that he makes seep inside me, the vibrations of his subtle moans shaking there.

I swallow hard and we just listen to each other’s heavy, determined breath before I tell him, “I don’t think you know how bad I want you to fuck me.”

All he can do is swear in a hot breath before another groan sneaks out of him. “Oh, my god, Jamie.” And then he starts to say  _Please_ but the word gets lost in a defeated sigh.

We both just mutter a string of  _fucks_ before I can tell he’s about to come. Seconds later, I am too. We’ve only finished at the same time while we’re talking on the phone and it’s an intense sensation, each of us consumed with our own release but provoked by the other hitting his limit. It builds until it breaks and together, we come undone.

It takes a while for my twitching muscles to let go, to finally collapse, hopeless and spent. After a moment of just listening to each other’s panting breath, it begins to even out. I have to smile when I hear that lazy laugh of his.

“I don’t really know why we’re on FaceTime,” Noble’s voice floats into the air above me.

An exhausted chuckle rumbles in my throat before I reach for my phone on the pillow beside me.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m into it,” he adds. “But I wasn’t… exactly paying attention to my phone screen. Let’s just say that.”

“I wanted to see you initially, but then-- Yeah, I don’t know.”

“Who cares?” He reasons. “You’re hot.”

With another laugh, I drop my free arm up and behind my head. “You’re so sick.”

“I know. Don’t judge me.”

“I like it.” A smirk flicks the corner of my lips. “I like that damn mouth of yours.”

“Yeah? Well you’ll get it soon enough.”

“Good. I’ve got plans for it.”

A soft laugh blows out of him. “You’re sick too, you hear me?”

I breathe deep and let the calming air fill my chest. “Yeah, maybe.”

“You want to hear something pretty gay?” He wonders.

Amused, I absently running my tongue along the ridge of my teeth and blink my dark bedroom into focus, “I’m fairly certain this entire conversation has been pretty damn gay, but go ahead.”

“I was really sad to wash my sheets last weekend after you left,” he admits. “That pillow still smelled like you and--” Then he pauses and I see him turn his head before he huffs a deep sigh and adjusts again on his bed. “Feel free to hang up now. Because I’m gross and apparently sentimental. But I miss you and you smell good and whatever.”

I bite into my lower lip, fighting a smile over his effect on my heart. “That’s super gay,” I tease him.

“I did wash my sheets,” he clarifies. “I’m not pathetic. But I’m just saying.”

“Fuck, that’s cute, Noble.”

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway.”

“I haven’t washed that sweatshirt,” I tell him. “The one you let me borrow after our run. It’s in my drawer and it still smells like you.”

“Oh damn,” he groans. “Why, do you have a crush on me or something?”

“You know your sense of smell is the only one that has a direct connection to the part of the brain associated with memory? That’s why… y’know, people can recall specific events and emotions just by smelling something--”

“Oh, my god. Look, I’m cool with jerking off on the phone together, but I’ll pass on this kinda talk.”

I crack up, my head tipping back into my pillows.

“You nerd.”

“Sorry,” I laugh. “Alright, I’m going to get ready for bed. Fucking deviant.”

“Go to sleep,” he tells me and I can hear the sleepy smile in his voice. “I’ll see you soon.”


	4. Chapter 4

The thrill of Noble’s impending return to New York is quickly diffused when he calls me just before his trip.

“I want to run this by you,” he starts, after I answer my phone on the way out of the 12th precinct. “And please don’t take this to mean I don’t want to see you, or my priorities are elsewhere because that’s not the case.”

Concern draws my brows together and I make my way down the steps. “Okay…”

“I’m coming in a day early. I’m gonna fly in Friday night for a little thing.”

I’m quiet for a beat as I bite the inside of my cheek. “What’s the thing?”

“It’s legit, I promise,” he tells me. “Just a poker game.”

“What, you owe a guy some money again?”

He lets out a low chuckle. “Hopefully I won’t. It’s a laid back game. If you like to play, you could come with me.”

I’m headed to the subway, but I let my pace idle on the sidewalk. “I work ‘til midnight on Friday.”

“Alright. Then we’ll meet up Saturday as planned,” he figures. “I just wanted to be honest with you.”

I can feel the confusion on my face, in my voice, and I hesitate a moment. “What--” then I exhale hard. I don’t want to be the one to tell him what to do. But at the same time, what the hell is he thinking? “That’s probably not a good idea, though. Have you played with these guys before?”

“Yeah, a couple times. They don’t know me.” He means they don’t know his real name, the family he comes from. But even if he's just getting together with harmless card players who have nothing to do with the life he used to live, I can't help react to that instinct that digs into my gut telling me to stop him from going.

Dragging my hand across my forehead, I press my fingers there hard. I keep walking, past the entrance to the train and head down the block. “You’re not even supposed to be in New York.” I feel like I’ve said those words to him a dozen times. “Don’t get me wrong, I want you here--”

“Sure, as long as I stay locked away in a tower and don’t talk to anyone but you.”

“Oh, that’s what you think? Don’t give me that.”

“Jamie, trust me. If I wanted to come back to New York and be seen, I know plenty of places I could go. I know exactly where I’d find old trouble, and this isn’t it,” he insists. “So forgive me if I want to come back to the city and feel somewhat normal, and do something to unwind--”

“ _Feel somewhat normal_ , what does that mean?”

“You get to do whatever you want in New York,” he argues. “You don’t have to look over your shoulder just to go get a coffee. The things I can get away with up there are limited.”

“Which is why I don’t think it’s a good idea to get involved with some damn… underground poker scene.”

“I never said it was seedy like that.”

“What’s the buy-in?” I question.

“Jamie--”

“Tell me.”

“It varies. But the one on Friday is a thousand bucks.”

A whispered exhale blows out of me. “Jesus.” I hop the curb when I wind up at Union Square, pacing the fairly unoccupied perimeter of the George Washington statue. I can't figure out if I'm supposed to be angry about all this. I am angry, but he talks as if I’m overreacting. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t care, but there are too many landmines when it comes to him, scattered around already treacherous territory.

“The games with the lower buy-ins aren’t as fun,” he maintains. “I mean, if I’m gonna play, I’m gonna play, you know?”

“Apparently.”

“Dude, those games at the Four Seasons where A-Rod would play had like, a two hundred thousand dollar buy-in.”

“Yeah, well you’re not A-Rod,” I muse.

“It’s not illegal,” he defends.

I have to scoff, as if he’s the one of us with any authority on the matter. “Who runs the room?”

“It’s some guy who runs the game out of his apartment,” Noble explains. “I’m telling you, it’s not a big deal.”

“What’s the rake?” I ask.

He lets a silent moment stall there between us, obviously hoping I wouldn’t know to ask whether the person running the poker game got to keep a commision of the pot. “I think it’s like, three percent.”

“So it is illegal. If the house keeps a cut, it’s illegal.”

“It’s not illegal to  _play_ ,” he clarifies, like that makes it any better.

“Right. It’s illegal to facilitate, I’m aware. Which means the cops could easily shut it down.”

“Worst case scenario, the cops bust it up,” he reasons. “They let the players go and they arrest the guy who runs it.”

“Really?” My brow furrows. “Is that the worst case scenario? Don’t forget you’d be out a thousand bucks, plus whatever chips you had on the table. Not to mention, they run everyone’s I.D. in those busts, including the players, so it pops up on an I.D. check that you’re in WITSEC and then we can really talk about worst case scenario.”

“What, so are you gonna come shut it down, then?”

“Look, I don’t have some crusade against poker. My dad plays, my grandpa plays. Whatever. This is about you. How do you know some mob guys aren’t on the back end of this room?”

“I would know.”

“Oh, you would know.” I know I come off like a sarcastic dick but I can’t even believe his blind arrogance hasn’t gotten him into more trouble. It’s only a matter of time before it catches up to him.

“And it’s not that kind of operation,” he adds. “I think you’ve seen  _Rounders_ too many times.”

“Fine.” I dismiss it with a huff and begin to make my way out of the park. “Fuck me, I guess. What do I know?”

He goes without saying anything for a few seconds and I just hear him breathe before his soft voice returns. “If you’re telling me not to go, I won’t go.”

“What, so you can resent me? For standing in the way of your  _normal_ life.” I exhale a humorless laugh.  “I’m not making that call. I’ve told you I don’t think it’s a smart idea, but you’re a grown man. You can think for yourself.”

“I didn’t want to hide it from you,” he offers.

I consider it, feeling my jaw tighten as my teeth crush the peppermint gum I’m chewing. As I wait to cross the street, I glance over to the entrance of the train at Union Square and figure I'll grab that to get home. “Look, do what you gotta do, alright?” But I’m not okay with the dread that sinks through me and yanks at my chest from all of this. “And I guess I'll see you Saturday.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Noble:**  I’ll be over in the Financial District. At a place on John Street near Gold. Just FYI.

I check my phone once I’ve finished with my run on the treadmill Friday morning and see the first message from Noble that I’ve received since our phone conversation.

I think about that part of downtown, this nondescript pocket of lower Manhattan, near Wall Street and it’s weird to me that he would spend his Friday night at some guy’s apartment there.

Passing a white gym towel across the back of my neck, I think about it while I make my way over to a nearby bench. I wonder if I know any of the officers in that sector of the 1st precinct. Not because I have intentions of shining a light on Noble and this stupid game. It has yet to be seen whether it’s worth police time to follow that lead. But because I consider getting in touch with the ones on patrol tonight to find out if they’ve heard about anything sketchy down there.

Then with a deep breath to alleviate my pounding heart, I sit back and study his message before I type back.

**Jamie:**  You notice anything off, you get the fuck out of there.

**Noble:**  I will.

**Jamie:**  I wish you’d just go play bingo in Queens so that I’m less likely to have a stroke worrying about you.

I send off the text and let myself exhale a soft laugh. I just miss him. I selfishly want him to myself and on top of the paranoia I have about Noble getting into trouble when left to fend for himself in the city, my head’s a wreck. I can’t bring myself to explicitly instruct him not to go, though.

**Noble:**  Please don’t worry about me.

**Jamie:**  Too bad. I do.

**Noble:**  I do stupid shit on a daily basis and live to tell about it.

With a shake of my head, a smile sneaks across my lips, but still his flippant attitude about it doesn't make me feel any better.

**Noble:**  We could go to Drag Queen Bingo down in the village. Would you rather come with me to that?

**Jamie:**  Yes, I’ll go with you to Drag Queen Bingo. That’s how much I’d rather spend my Friday night with you.

**Noble:** Wait, you’ll really go?

**Jamie:** If I didn’t have to work, I would, bro.

**Noble:**  Next time.

I don’t respond, simply tapping my thumb against the side of my phone. Then he messages me again.

**Noble:** Even if it’s late, I’ll call you after I’m done, okay?

I wait a moment to consider it, figuring there’s nothing else to say before I write:  _Okay. Be safe._  And hope it’s not the last thing I ever say to him.

* * *

 

After a painfully busy tour where Vinny and I spent our time responding to multiple domestics, breaking up a bar fight, and chasing a kid who stole a phone that nearly resulted in me getting hit by a cab, I'm finally able to call it a night.

Back at the precinct, I check my phone and see nothing from Noble. I’m tempted to text him if everything’s going okay, but I stop myself. That doesn’t mean I feel any more settled about what he's doing, even after having the day to process it. As the night wore on, I only grew more anxious.

Before I punch out for the night, I swing back to my station desk to access the database. There I do a quick search of recent arrests made in the sector where Noble said he was going to be for the night. Maybe I won’t let it go, but something’s not right about it. I don’t know if it’s the game itself, that building, or if there are people watching him but I can’t shake the conviction I have that he shouldn’t be there. And it’s not just because I think it’s a stupid way to blow his money.

I filter through the search results, narrowing down to the current year, then the past month and skim the stats. Nine felony assaults reported in that precinct in the last month, five robberies -- both numbers somewhat high for that fairly tame neighborhood. One murder, three weeks ago, and no arrest made.  I zoom back out and do a quick check of previous months to compare.

I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Some sort of pattern or red flag, but nothing stands out.

My gaze shifts around the precinct. I tell myself to just go home. What am I going to do, head downtown and just aimlessly circle blocks until I see Noble walk out of some building? I don’t know, but there’s some unrelenting pull I feel that tells me to go find him.

* * *

 

The thing about the Financial District is it’s the city’s oldest neighborhood. It’s New York’s origin where, famously, the island of Manhattan was purchased by Dutch colonials from the Native Americans for twenty-four dollars. At least, that’s the historical claim people like to cite.

And while the neighborhood is slick commerce and corporate towers, bustling during the day, at night it feels isolated, with traces of that original era still whispered in its dark alleyways. Crooked narrow streets, a disorienting change from the typical grid above Fourteenth Street, await me when I emerge from the subway. I check my phone again to find no message from Noble, even at one a.m., and start toward the cross streets he had mentioned in his message.

I mentally account for my off duty nine millimeter at my hip, concealed by the brown leather jacket I wear over a black sweater and jeans.

The air this late is cold in my chest as I shift my gaze around the abandoned sidewalks and head north. I don’t know what to look for. A luxury condo, a generic high-rise or what.

As the street narrows, I make my way beneath the maze of construction scaffolding that envelops so many of the sidewalks here. At the corner is Gold Street, dimly lit with all of its storefronts closed, gated and locked aside from the entrance to a fairly deserted parking garage.

I follow the street, offering a glance over my shoulder when I turn the corner. Then I pause a beat. 

I know I feel it again. 

This thud in my chest that makes my throat tight before the hard, reverberating sound of weight against chain link fence jerks my breath from me.

My focus sharpens on the sound coming from midway up the desolate block. I hear someone’s faint groan just inside an offshoot alley across the way.

Instinctively, I reach one hand to my hip as I come closer. And just as I make out the struggling body pressed between a brick wall and an attacker at his back, I tug the chain of my shield from beneath my sweater and retrieve my gun.

“Police. Don't move!” I shout the command before I aim my weapon at the man shoved against Noble's back with a knife at his side.


	6. Chapter 6

“Drop the knife.” I order.

A black hooded sweatshirt shrouds the man who has Noble up against the wall. I train my focus on him, although I can't make out much else as far as details that might give away who he is, other than the fact that he's slightly taller, but skinny.

I'm afraid that if I look at Noble, he'll say something to me, so I don't. But I hear his urgent breath hitch when the perp moves his arm -- the one with the knife -- higher, seemingly toward his ribcage beneath his jacket.

“Drop it!” I'm louder this time.

“You gonna shoot me?” The man challenges with this almost incredulous laugh.

“I don't have to, but I will shoot you if you don't drop the knife.”

He considers his options in a shaky pause but I hold firm, unmoving, my steady reflexes balancing in anticipation of his move.

He validates the prediction I had that he was going to run when he all but throws Noble to the ground between us and takes off down the street.

Immediately, I shove my gun back in my holster and move toward Noble who starts to sit up.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he affirms.

“Don’t move,” I tell him just as I push off and dart after the man with the knife.

He attempts to scale a locked chain link gate, but he struggles to get his footing, letting go of the knife as he tries to grab onto the fence. All it takes is an easy jump for me to grab him from behind and haul him to the pavement.

Then it’s all a quick blur of holding him down. He tries to scrap with me, fighting against my grip as he mutters for me to get off of him, but I’m able to secure the pair of handcuffs from my back pocket around his wrists. Breathless, I glance up to see Noble come closer.

“I told you not to move,” I say, getting to my feet before I retrieve the switchblade from the ground and fold the knife back into the handle, then I pull out my phone. “Are you hurt? Are you cut?”

Noble just looks at me, this stunned haze in his eyes, confusion drawn between his brows. With a faint shake of his head, he glances down at himself.

“This is Officer Reagan, shield number six-oh-five-two-eight,” I offer into my phone as I return to the perp, crouch down and pull the hood back from his head. “I’m off duty, requesting a 10-85 to Forty Gold Street, between Fulton and John, I got one under--” I relay the arrest to dispatch, calling for a unit to bring him in.

Once I end the call, I finally take a moment to let my gaze settle on Noble. For that moment, we don't say anything. It's just hard exhales that faintly cloud the air between us. I don't let myself tip over the precipice of everything I want to scream at him right now. This isn't the place for it anyway. I can't give an indication that I know the victim. So I don't even start.

There's a scrape above his eyebrow, and on the tip of his nose but otherwise he seems unharmed.

Reaching down, I turn the head of the man lying on the ground. “You know this guy?” I question.

With a hard swallow, Noble shakes his head. “No.”

My gaze stalls on him a moment to confirm his honesty.

“I just wanted money, man,” The handcuffed man wails. “I wasn't gonna kill him. I didn't do anything!”

While he's shouting at me, I stand up and lean in to Noble enough to mutter, “You need to get out of here.” I have to keep him from the precinct, his name off the report, anything that lets the city know that he's here and possibly being targeted.

Noble merely quirks one eyebrow, puzzled.

I flick my gaze over his shoulder and bob my chin that way. “Go.” I mouth the instructions and the look I give him implies that he should figure out why. We'll deal with this later.

With a dazed nod, he complies, backs up a few steps and makes his way up the block.

* * *

 

“Get in here,” I decide, my shoulder pushing off the frame of my doorway.

After I finished processing the collar, I was able to ditch the precinct and head home. On the way, I sent Noble a message to meet me at my apartment. I didn't care that it was the middle of the night.

“Jamie, I don't know who that guy was. I swear.” He comes inside and eases the door closed behind him as I lead him further into my living room.

“He's Benny Roa and he's associated with three other armed robberies in that neighborhood. He stated that building you were playing in is known to have a decent amount of cash going in and out. So that's what he was after.”

“I just--” Noble swallows hard and shakes his head at me. “I was leaving the apartment. This guy walked past me, like, too close, I knew he was shady. Mumbled something and then… I don't know. All of a sudden, I was cornered.”

“What'd he say?”

“Something like, _I know you got money. Get it out now, or I'll cut the shit out of you._ ”

“Did you give him anything?”

“I was going to,” he tells me. “But that's when you got there.”

Pressing my lips together, I manage a slight nod. “Well I'm glad you're okay.”

“I should have listened to you,” he murmurs. “How were you just… there--?”

My jaw stiffens and I set my hard gaze on him. “Don't ever put me in that position again.”

His eyes dim to faint rims of green around wide black pupils. “I didn't mean--”

“I know you didn't mean to, but you did.”

“What, you think I came to New York looking to get robbed at knifepoint?”

“No, but you put yourself in that position when you insisted on getting involved in that game when I told you it was a bad idea--”

“It's not like you said,  _Hey, guys are getting held up coming out of that place_ \--”

“And on top of that, you put your whole identity, your whole life in jeopardy. Your sister’s. Mine. One statement to the police, which technically I needed, and everything that's been done to protect you is blown. There's ripple effects, you know, when you make decisions. Or do you just not give a shit?”

“Jamie, I don't need a lecture.”

I cough a hot, breathy laugh and my gaze narrows at him. “I don't know what it is you need.”

His eyes close and he hangs his head for a moment. “I mean. From you. I know I fucked up and the last person I want to disappoint is you.”

“I don't care about being  _disappointed_. I was disappointed when I was ten and my dad couldn't make it to one of my basketball games.” I can feel the way my temper flares in my pulse, along my neck. “This was some idiotic, self-serving bullshit, Noble. It was reckless, and it was careless and this isn't the first time you've acted without thinking.”

The sting of my words shines in his eyes as they seem search mine. With parted lips he shakes his head and his voice is soft when he finally says something. “I'm kind of… not sure why you asked me to come over.” Then he exhales a laugh in disbelief as he reaches up to scratch the back of his head. “I should go.”

“I don't know if you know this but people care about you.”

Digging teeth into his lower lip, his chin drops and he looks at the floor.

I come a step closer. “I wish you wouldn't live your life as if nobody does.”

“Jamie--”

“I don't want you to go home tonight,” I tell him.

His gaze lifts, thick eyelashes flicker as I move near him.

“Stay here.” When I say it, I recognize the hard clench of his throat when he swallows. “Okay?”

He nods with a long, shaky inhale. I’ve never seen him so quiet, with so little to say.

“You’re fine,” I assure him, leaning up to wrap my arms around him and pull him into a hug. “You’re alright.”

Resting his chin on my shoulder, he tips his face down as he squeezes me around my back. “I know you’re pissed,” he murmurs there.

“Yeah. I’m fucking pissed, Noble.”

He simply nods again and we stand there a moment until our deep breathing falls in sync.

Gradually, I ease back, taking a moment to let my gaze roam over his features. The scrape above his eyebrow has dulled a little, but otherwise he looks as good as he always does, tousled wavy hair and a bottom lip that begs for attention. And despite everything, a look from him still manages to swirl the embers around the flame in the pit of my chest.

“You smell like smoke,” I tell him.

He blinks as he looks down to give himself a self-conscious glance. “Oh--”

“Go take a shower.” I tilt my head in the direction of my bathroom.

Without arguing, he heads that way while I turn to settle on my couch.

I sit on the edge of the brown leather cushion, elbows rested on my knees and drag hands up my face. After a moment, I hear the shower turn on, and I hang my heavy head while I let the steady, muffled sound of trickling water calm me.

God I could punch him. That hardheaded disregard for common sense drives me crazy and it’s high on the list of reasons I need to let him go.

When the bathroom door opens, I glance up. Noble stands there, his jacket no longer on, but still dressed as he peers out as if he forgot something. “Um--”

Pushing up from the couch, I start toward him. I cross the living room and my steps don’t stop until I collide with him, my mouth falling hot on his before I urge him back through the doorway and follow him inside.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some pretty smutty stuff ahead. Warning. :)

Steam easily fills the room as the shower runs hot behind the curtain. After I pull his shirt off, Noble drops his mouth on mine again but I push into him, backing him against the edge of the sink. There I close my hard grip in his hair which earns a desperate whimper from his chest.

I feel him reach out for me, pulling at the hem of my sweater before he flicks it up and grasps the waist of my jeans. He tugs at the button before I smack his hand away.

A heavy exhale rushes out of him. “Fuck. Please,” he whispers, letting his head fall back.

My hands get to him and I yank open his jeans, enough that they hang off his hips. I feel my throat get hot just looking at him as I let my gaze fall from his broad chest to the flat plane of his stomach, low before tan skin disappears beneath the edge of dark boxer briefs.

Impatiently, he goes for my shirt again, grasping for anything. But in another quick move, I shove his hands away, step back and tug my own sweater over my head.

Then he grasps the button at my pants again and I throw my shirt to the floor and latch a forceful grip around both of his wrists. He fights me for a second until I tighten my fists and he swallows this overt, gravelly moan.

Lifting my arms, I take his with me and lean into him to lay his palms on top of his head. I pin him there against the counter and don't miss the smirk that sneaks up the corner of his lips when I challenge his gaze.

Leaning in, my mouth brushes his. The tip of my tongue strokes the swell of his lower lip, luring him closer before I edge away.

A broken sigh escapes him and he rasps, “Don't tease me.”

“Don't fucking move your hands.” Letting go of his wrists, my touch skates the sides of his neck. Holding him there, I kiss him again, slow this time and anything but a tease.

He seems to hold his breath for a still moment and then it's almost like he melts into me. But he keeps his hands there, fingers laced at the crown on his head.

I missed the way he tastes so bad. As soon as it invades my senses, my whole chest is scorching with this mix of relief and an ache for more.

His shoulders start to cave as he relaxes and he drops one hand to my arm.

My lips tug his and I murmur, “I said keep your hands up.”

With a reluctant exhale, he complies and puts his hand back on his head. Tipping his chin down, he lifts thick, dark lashes and looks up at me.  

A slight smile flicks across my mouth as I step back from him. “Oh, you listen to me now.” My brows pull together in a meaningful tease as I unbutton my jeans and start to slide them off.

Shamelessly, his gaze descends and he presses his lips together. As he slips hands down to rest on the back of his head, he nods. “Something tells me I'd be better off if I did--  _Fuck_ , you look so good.” He groans the sentiment after I get rid of the last of my clothes and step closer to him.

I reach for the waist of his boxers, hook my thumbs there and push them down his hips.

He glances down between our bodies to watch me. “Please don't tell me I'm not allowed to touch you,” he pleads.

With a deep, thoughtful inhale I tilt into him, freeing his straining hard-on. As much control as I have, a mindless little grunt rattles in my throat when I consider the rigid state of his cock right at my hip.

“I'll think about it.” Then bringing my hand to my mouth, I glance at him and run my tongue in a slick path across my palm.

I see the way his lips part as he watches me, lustful green eyes flicking all around my face. He lets out a hard hiss of air that just becomes a breathy “ _Sshhhit_ \-- ohmygod” when my grip closes around his shaft.

Peering up, I arch an eyebrow at the hands on his head in a wordless reminder to keep them there. When he tips his head back, showing off the thick column of his throat, my mouth drops there with lips on heated skin.

“Fuck, you're gonna kill me.” His words vibrate on my tongue. He moans and tilts into my slow stroke.

My mouth trails the curve of his neck until my teeth close there at the base. I suck briefly until he calls out a surprised, throaty groan.

In a quick move, I pull off of him and let go. “I'm getting in the shower,” I tell him, then turn and fling open the curtain.

He coughs out this dismayed, almost defeated squeak and I have to chuckle as I step beneath the hot water.

Angling forward, his hands still hugging the back of his head, he calls out, “Can I move?”

“Yeah you can move.”

And in no time, Noble's rid of the rest of his clothes and he follows in behind me.

I anticipate the way he pursues me in the confined space. His chest, his hips collide with mine until my back meets the slick tiled wall. I bring him against me, gripping his sides as he rakes a hand up the back of my head.

His wet mouth latches onto mine once more and quickly -- as he realizes I have no intention of stopping him this time -- his touch is all over me.

Pushing me back, he grips my waist and bends forward, dragging a fist up the length of my cock before he sinks to his knees in front of me. I’m still lost in the cruel sensation of his kiss, of my throbbing bottom lip when he slides his tongue along my shaft.

I have to hold onto his shoulder, steadying myself as the move takes me by surprise. My chest expands as I run my other hand up the wall and glance down at him, a rush of breath escaping me. I don’t expect him to look up at me, but he does just for a moment, this slight jump at his eyebrow that the corner of his lips matches as the faint tease of his tongue traces the head of my cock. That fucker. Goddamn, I want everything about him.

He gives up the tease when he goes down to take me to the back of his throat.

My need for it rumbles out of me in a scratchy  _Ahh, god_  and fuck, I need something else to hold onto. I reach down and dig my grip into his hair while the spray of the shower pounds his back.

He groans when I do. It's like he covets me, the way he pulls me in around my hips, the width of his palm coasting hard up and around the curve of my ass.

The water rains down around him, trickling haphazard paths down his skin and mine. I fall back against the wall, guiding his head against me and he follows.

Every stroke of his hand is a reminder of how badly I crave him, making me weak like no one else can, or ever has -- completely undone. How he’s managed to sneak past those walls of mine, I still haven’t grasped. I’m not even sure he resolved to crumble them in the first place. Somehow, in a vulnerable moment that I’ll never be sure was pure chance, we found each other and couldn't bring ourselves to let go.

The urgent resolve to get me off clouds my head but I want it just as desperately as he does. When I push back into the wall and my hips meet him, my hands digging in his thick hair, he lets a hungry growl swirl inside him. He sinks further like that's just what he wants -- for me to fuck his mouth, until he totally consumes me.

He nudges me closer, skating his touch up the back of my leg until fingertips trail the seam of my ass.  _Fuck_ , just the sensation of him parting me there, running a finger in a teasing stroke, makes something in my core clench. God, I missed it so bad. The memory’s been playing in my mind for weeks.

The both of us find a heated rhythm and it's so fucking desperate and needy. As soon as I feel the pulsing pressure of his fingertip while he jerks me in his mouth with his other hand, I know I'm going to come, overpowered by a tense release there's no way I can back away from.

It feels like it'll never end when my muscles seize and everything is black. Broken moans force their way out of my chest and I nearly collapse, grasping his shoulder as I shudder and finish right there.

When the last blissful twitch deep in my center tapers off, I tip my head back against the wall and exhale hard. I take a beat to breathe, then glance down to see Noble ease himself away. Coughing out a spent laugh, I have to smile at the smug way he looks at me as he passes the edge of his thumb across lip.

With a playful punch of his fist at my hip, he gets to his feet. “So maybe I show off a little when you won’t let me fucking touch you.”

I feel the corner of my smile flick and I lift my chin, watching as he comes closer to stand over me. “Is that what you were doing?”

His touch grazes my sides and he pulls me into him underneath the running water. “I’ve expanded on my ways of thanking you--” he tells me as my hands coast up his biceps. “--For, y’know, keeping me alive.”

“You were pretty damn appreciative just then.”

His gaze flits down to watch my lips brush across his. He touches them gently and wonders, “Am I forgiven yet?”

I capture his bottom lip and tease the tip of my tongue there. “Not yet.”

Returning the tease, his mouth lingers at mine, curving up into a faint smile. “Good.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual with these two, there's major adult content ahead.

“Jamie, don’t--”

I’m immersed in this cloudy desire that makes his voice sound far away. But I pause when his grip closes in my hair. From the foot of my bed, I glance up at him, my tongue just a tease across the head of his dick.

Noble starts to sit up in front of me, slanting back to rest on his hands behind him.

I start to ease away. “Don’t what?”

After coming so hard I nearly forgot why I was upset with him in the first place, my head practically felt empty, my muscles void of all the tension that had been winding itself throughout my body all night. We had been just mindlessly making out in my bed in this almost sleepy, idle fog since we found our way out of the shower. Eventually, I had moved my way down on him, unable to resist the temptation of his hard-on against my leg.

Reaching out, he sweeps his fingers through my hair once more and I can’t determine the look on his face. Lines crease his forehead in worry before he drops his chin to look down, exhaling a sad laugh through his nose. “Jamie.”

“What’s up?” I ask him again and sit back.

There's a faint dread that’s tugged in my gut since this whole thing started -- that at any minute this would scare him more than it scares me and it’d be easier for him to abandon it.

His hand drops from my hair and he looks up at me. His tongue passes over his bottom lip and he draws in a quick breath, holding it before his brow dips in confusion. Finally he lets the words out. “You’re too good for me.”

My gaze flicks to his mouth, then his hazy eyes. “Why do you--?”

“And you've probably figured that out already. I mean I'm obviously a huge liability and you're… perfect.”

It confuses me that he's having this apparent moment of realization now because it's nowhere near where my mind was.

I offer a faint shake of my head. “Noble, stop.”

He laughs. “Don't argue with that.”

I just look at him, adjusting over him on my knees.

“I guess I've known that all along and just figured you'd eventually ditch me. Or decide that you can’t do this. I was okay with that possibility for a minute. But now it's like I've never--” And then he tips his head back to look at the ceiling and stalls with a deep inhale. “I've never been this scared to lose someone.”

The weight in my chest is heavy, like something’s pressing there and the air, my heartbeat, it all stands still.

“And I’m sorry,” he goes on. “About everything tonight--”

Shifting closer, I slide one knee on the mattress on the outside of his thigh. I see the nervous swallow clench his throat as he watches me move.

I slide my hand along his neck, looming over him as I pull him toward me. “You're a huge liability,” I murmur the words before my lips touch his.

He holds my sides and lingers on the kiss for a beat before his face tilts down. He slides the tip of his nose down my cheek.

“And I can’t lose you either,” I assure him. “Okay?” Holding onto the edge of his jaw, I skate my thumb across his soft lower lip.

When he nods, he gives it a light kiss. “You won’t.”

“And I’m not too good for you.”

Noble hums a quiet laugh before his mouth falls to the side of my neck. “I guess as long as you believe that, we’re good.”

Tilting my face, my lips capture his once more. I drag my fingers back into his hair and ease closer on his lap, my chest pressing his, his palms firm on my back.

Lingering kisses just barely tug apart to find new ones. He slips away enough to tell me, “I mean, you saved my life tonight and there was that other time the first night we met and I probably didn’t deserve either one--”

“It wasn’t the first night we met,” I correct him. “It was the third.”

He narrows his gaze as if he doesn't believe me. “It was the first.”

“It was the third. The first night you were convinced you knew me from somewhere,” I recount. “The second, I tried to use you to get a tip on a drug dealer, but you wouldn't take the bait. And then, the  _next_ night we probably would have blown each other in an alley, but you went and got so fucked up, you almost died--”

“Shut up,” he laughs against my mouth. “Alright fine, it was the third night. Damn. And you would not have, by the way.”

I tease him with the twitch of my cheek. “You're right. I would have made you wait ‘til we got back to your place.”

“Ugh.” His breathy groan rumbles between us. “Fuck, that's hot actually.”

The memory of those first encounters turns me on more than expected. I'm not sure why. The idea of us crossing that line back then, when there's no way I actually would have. Maybe. I can’t be sure.

But my hips tilt down against him as my kiss sinks heavy. It draws a deep sigh from his throat and he runs hands up my back to dig his grip into my shoulderblades.

He lifts his hips from underneath me and we both sort of roll with whatever sparked this notched-up intensity with harder kisses and more heated, sporadic rushes of breath.

I hate it so bad when I pull off of him, but I need more. And I have to shift off and reach my nightstand if all that I want from him is ever going to happen.

Noble exhales hard from where he sits, propped back in the middle of the bed, watching as I make my way to him. “Get over here.”

He takes the bottle of lube from me as I return to his lap. When my grip tightens in his hair, he flicks his attention up. He lets me tug his head back as I hover over him on my knees.

I tip my head down to meet his lips again before I sink lower. With a needy pull, his palms grasp my ass and one slick finger strokes underneath. A breathy moan rattles in my throat when his touch slinks further, finding that center.

There he teases me and already it feels so fucking good, just the faint pulse of his fingertip. I arch back into it, searing his mouth with a harder kiss but my shaky groan breaks it for a moment. “ _Fuck_ , oh my god,” I murmur against his lips.

He takes his time and I know what he's doing. With a touch that's just out of reach from what I actually want, but feels so deliriously good it's going to make me crazy.

Humming a soft sigh, I pull off his kiss and tip my forehead against the side of his neck. “Don't-don't-don't-- Mm you'll make me come that way.”

This sexy little laugh vibrates in his chest. “How is that a problem?” Then his finger pushes a little deeper.

When I feel him just slightly curving up inside me I suck in air and choke on a sudden laugh. The sound just sort of comes apart with a loud groan and I press against his shoulder until he eases a finger out of me and falls on his back.

Leaning over, I grasp the wrapped condom I had tossed on the bed and flick it onto his chest. “Here y’go, high roller. I'm not fucking around this time.”

“Oh-ho,” he chuckles as he picks it up, tears the wrapper and adjusts back on his elbows. “Is that right?”

After I move aside to let him take a moment to get ready, making use of the bottle at our side once more, I slide back on top of him. “Yeah.”

Nipping a kiss on my bottom lip, he looks up at me, a playful lift of his eyebrow. “I mean I want to fuck around a little bit.”

I laugh softly before I fall on his mouth again. And that's the way it continues for a moment, with hot kisses and grinding hips and slow, exploring fingers until I'm ready.

I don't think he's expecting me to stay on top of him. But I sit up on my knees and reach back for his waiting shaft, and he lifts up to watch me.

He swallows an impatient breath but he closes his eyes, as if to temper that rush when I tease the head of his cock against my opening.  Propped up on his elbows, his head tips back and he exhales hard.

I'm mesmerized by his perfect profile, the rise and fall of his chest that he's trying so hard to keep steady. Knowing this alone, that I've just barely begun to slip him inside me, has him desperate to maintain some sort of control makes a heated thrill light up my core.

“By the way,” he starts. “I stand by my conviction that I had met you before that first night.”

I have to laugh. He's trying to distract himself. “Oh yeah?”

“Uh-huh--” But the rest of the response just blows out in another rush of air.

Tipping closer on top of him, I push against his shoulder and ease him back out of me. I have to do it like that because despite the fact that I've definitely practiced these last few weeks, that particular toy didn't quite match up to reality of Noble Sanfino and there's no way in one stroke I'm going to be able to handle the size of him.

But the break seems to relieve him too and instead of worrying that I'll never be able to do this, I just let his kiss relax me until I'm ready to try again.

“I never went to fucking Stardust,” I tell him, a smile against his mouth as I lean down on top of him, grasping his hair in my fingers.

“You sure?”

“I'm pretty damn sure.”

“Not even just one night?” He carries on. “A bad decision? Feeling rebellious…”

The hypothetical notion piques my interest and I play along. “Alright, so what if I  _was_ there a night?”

With a deep, hopeful inhale, he drags his teeth over his bottom lip and his eyes light up. “Then I definitely bought you a drink.” His finger slips inside me again.

I push back against his roaming hands and bury another groan in a biting kiss. “Mm, fuck that feels good,” I whisper.

“And then I’m pretty sure we made out on the dance floor.”

My concentration breaks with a breathy laugh against the edge of his jaw. “No we didn’t.”

“Okay, we made out in the bathroom.”

I lift my gaze to him, tilting my head to consider it. Easing myself up a little, I adjust once more and reach back for him. “We made out in the hallway that led to the bathrooms.”

“Oh damn.” His gaze narrows thoughtfully.

Letting my weight sink just slightly lower onto his stiff cock, I hold my breath. But I drop my head, take a moment to steady my focus and I swallow a shaky exhale.

Noble tries so damn hard to let go of any impulse he might have to take over. But he knows I have to lead so he waits, a reassuring squeeze of his palms on my thighs.

He tips his head back and a broken moan rattles in his throat when he’s able to ease into me a little more. “Ahh--” he breathes out hard. “Are you okay?”

I nod, pushing my palm against his shoulder. “Just wait.”

He nods with me, an inhale jumping in his chest. “Okay.”

“Tell me what else we did.”

He lets out a breathy laugh. “Let's see. I tried to get you to take me home, but I think you had a girlfriend.”

Coughing out, I chuckle as I hang my head over his chest. “Oh really?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t really concerned.”

“I must have been wasted.”

“Or I must have been a really good kisser.”

A teasing smile curves on my face as his hands coast up my back to bring me closer. Lowering my chest to his, I kiss him again. “Yeah, I remember,” I murmur and with a measured back tilt of my ass, I take him in a little more. “You should have just asked, I would have gone home with you.”

“Ahh,  _fuck_ ,” he sighs.

I keep going, riding my patient restraint until eventually, he's inside me completely. I'm still for a moment and the sensation is intense as hell.  _Damn_ I could get off from just the control alone.

With a firm grip, Noble reaches an arm up and his hand tightens on the back of my neck. His fingers spread into my hair and he urges me closer.

His mouth hovers right at mine, like he's too focused, too shaky to get lost in another kiss.

“Jamie--” And then he laughs, seemingly in disbelief, panting rushed breath from his chest. “ _Goddamn_. I don't-- there's no way I can last when you feel like this--  _Fuck_!”

A heavy, loud growl escapes me as I push my palm into the bed. Dropping my face to his neck, I exhale the words there. “It's so good. You feel fucking perfect.”

He sighs hard at the praise murmured through the rush of our hot breath.

“Lift your hips slow and push into me. Just a little,” I tell him.

I know he had been hesitant to initiate much movement, worried he'd hurt me or wind up rushing. But when I ask for it, he grasps firmly on one asscheek and rocks into me from underneath and  _holy fuck_ , that's it.

He chokes on a loud groan, arching his neck as he calls out, “Fuck me, I'm gonna come.”

I don't expect to but I do too. And the overwhelming sensation of hitting my breaking point with him inside me is the complete dismantling of everything I have.

It's the hardest orgasm I've ever had, blindingly intense like the times he's played with my ass while he sucked me off, but even more since I was on top of him, being this close to him and feeling him everywhere.

Never in my life have I felt like this. The throbbing after effects of pure rapture that took over my body like it wasn't even mine any more.

With a final defeated twitch, he pulses inside me one more time. I hold still for a moment, easing my grip on his shoulder as my senses start to return to me.

Our hard, steady breathing fills the space between us. Noble tips his head back for air and then adjusts to look at me.

A smile flicks the corner of my lips when my gaze lands on his shiny one. “Oh now I remember you from Stardust,” I tease him.

A lazy chuckle rumbles in his chest. “You fucker.”

Leaning down, I press a hard kiss on his cheek. “Don't tell my girlfriend.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Jay--”

“Yo?”

“We have a real problem.”

I hear Noble's voice call out from my bedroom and I have to slant a concerned brow. Pulling open the bathroom door, a steam cloud leftover from my morning shower follows me as I make my way around to my room. “You haven't moved since I left you--”

Noble lies in the middle of my bed on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow. “I've been living--” he announces there. “All of my sexually active years without ever experiencing that.”

“Experiencing what?” With a smirk, I lean in the doorway, my arms folded.

He pushes up to glance back at me over his shoulder, his gaze flicking from my bare chest to the boxers I'm wearing. Then he arches one awfully cute eyebrow and looks at me like I must be playing dumb.

I cough a loud laugh and shake my head. “What do you mean,  _never experiencing that_? I did a little of that down in Miami.”

“No-no-no--” He rattles as he turns over to fall onto his back. “What you just did was on a different level.”

“Yeah well--” With a grin, I come into the room and head to my dresser to find a t-shirt. “There's a lot I had never experienced until you came along. So--” Then I push a drawer closed and reach over to whack his knee with the shirt I just pulled out. “You gonna lay in bed all day? Get up.”

“Dude we didn't get to sleep last night ‘til almost five a.m.”

“I know. Once I fell asleep, I was  _out_.”

“Well I like the way you wake up,” he muses with a stretch beneath my covers before he manages to sit up. “How are you?”

Smirking, I tug my t-shirt on and run a hand through my wet hair. “Why? Am I walking funny?”

“No,” he laughs, glancing up at me as I round the bed. “I'm just checking on you.”

I reach out and curl my fingers in his tousled brown hair before I lean down and leave a kiss there. “I'm good. Just a little sore, bigshot. But I'm not complaining.”

He lets out a little rumbly moan as he hooks an arm around my waist. “No, why are you getting back in bed?” He whines his teasing protest, but he’s pulling me on top of him. “Stop, stop, I'm trying to get up--”

“Don't--” I chuckle at him as he hauls me to the bed and tackles me there.

Sometimes I forget how strong he is, but I don't exactly fight him. Relenting beneath him, heavy legs tangle and I flinch with a hard laugh in my chest when he grips my waist. “Ugh,” I groan loud up to the ceiling. I complain, but I swing my leg over his hip, drawing my knees up his sides as I tug him against me. “You’re a bad influence.”

He props his hands by my shoulders and pushes his arms straight as he smirks down at me. “Am I?”

“Yes. You know on any other Saturday, by this time I would have run ten miles already?”

His mouth opens and his typical charming smile flicks the corners there. “I didn’t stop you from going anywhere.”

“Not intentionally.” I drag my palms up the length of his arms, along the flexed ridges of his triceps, to his shoulders. “But you make it hard for me to choose anything else.”

“Oh-ho, you’re cute.” His face drops to the curve of my neck. “Well don’t hold me responsible for your moral and physical downfall.”

“I definitely blame you for that.”

“Is it too soon to tell you I thought it was hot as hell when you slammed that guy off the fence to the ground?”

A smile surfaces despite my eye-rolling. “Is that right?”

“Mm-hm.” He bites a kiss just above the collar of my t-shirt and trails a few gentler ones across my throat.

“Well when I see a damsel in distress--”

He lets out a loud laugh, leaning up to pound a fist against my shoulder.  “You dick--”

I rock beneath him, shifting my weight as I attempt to fight the way he pins me. But I’m cracking up and can’t manage to try very hard. “It’s all part of the job.”

“You must get a lot of thankful blowjobs in showers, then.”

“Not exactly. I don’t usually meet up with the victims later and have that much sex with them.”

“Just me?”

“Just the cute idiots who can’t seem to stay out of trouble. I’ll make an exception for them.”

“How many cute idiots, though?” With one hand, he runs it along my thigh and hitches my knee up higher at his side until I wrap my other leg around his waist and my hips tilt into his.

“Just you.” A grin slants across my face. “How many did you think?”

Leaning down, he rests his face on my chest and glances up at me through thick, dark eyelashes. “I thought I’d ask.”

“What about you? How many other people are waking your ass up with their tongue?”

Deflating on top of me, he sputters a laugh against my ribcage. The weight of him feels good as I sink into my tangle of blankets.

He shifts, propping his chin on my chest to glance up at me. The filtered, early afternoon light catches in his soft gaze.  “Hands down, you're the best I've ever had,” he tells me. “And right now, you're it for me. So… you should know that.”

I look down at him, a pleased twitch at my lips and brush my hand through his hair. “So what does that mean... for us?”

A breathy laugh escapes him and he pushes up to adjust on his elbows over my stomach. “Are you gonna make me get serious right now?”

“You're the one getting serious asking how many other people I'm sleeping with.”

“I suck at being serious.”

“Yeah I know.”

“I mean. Do I get to call you my boyfriend?” A smirk curves on his face with a little scrunch of his nose at the unexplored term for the both of us.

I can feel the way my gaze flits around his face, as if it’s lit up from the current of my heartbeat. “Do I get to call you mine?”

“Yeah. I want that.”

I laugh. “Me too.”

Tipping his head down he rests it against my middle and lets out a low groan. “Oh, fuck.”

Amused, I just drag my lip beneath my teeth and watch him. “What?”

“I-- I'm just gonna stop myself from saying more stuff,” he murmurs, pushing up the edge of my t-shirt.

Just the sight of him there, the sensation of his breath on my skin makes my pulse flare, getting me hard. “Say more stuff like what?”

“Mm-nh.” His refusal is muffled as he drags his head lower and starts to pull down the waist of my boxers.

I can't help but chuckle, a charmed grin burning my cheeks.  _Fuck_ , it's insane that I'm this into him, it makes my chest hot. That I'm this content to lay in bed half the day with him doing nothing. Or doing more of this, rather -- giving in to one another until we're just completely unwound.

I turn my head to watch him stroke my hard-on before he guides it out of my underwear.

I shift at the sensation, flinching beneath him and groan softly overhead. “Dude, I was about to make coffee, but alright.”

He doesn't miss the opportunity to slip his mouth around me, all the way down in a slick heat to the base of my shaft before he slowly eases back and away. “My bad. Don't let me keep you.”

Reaching out, I smack his shoulder before I dig my hand into his hair. “Hey, hey-- not so fast.”

He tips closer with a laugh. “I thought you were trying to say you had better things to do-- Oh  _damn_ , Officer.” He lets his head arch back with the pressure of my grip. “Pull my hair that hard again, see what happens.”

Pressing my lips together, I hold back the mischievous curve there and tighten my fist in thick messy waves once more. “Yeah? Show me.”

It prompts a sexy little rumble in his throat and quickly, he moves back to tug my boxers all the way off before he settles over me on his knees. He wraps his sizable fist around my arousal that won't quit for him, lowering his head there to destroy any lingering notion I may have had that this guy wasn't entirely mine for good.


	10. Chapter 10

“This is the cutest thing you've ever said to me by the way.” Noble teases me as soon as he opens the door to his penthouse where I stand waiting. He examines the screen of his phone and then looks at me, a smile curving on his face.

I glance at the phone in his hand, faking a clueless note as my brows draw together. “What?”

“ _I know we're not hanging out til later_ ,” he reads aloud the text message I had sent. “ _But I want to come over and take a nap_.”

“I do.” With a laugh, I come closer inside.

“Is this supposed to be code for something?” He wonders, a quick jump of his eyebrow over the black frame of his glasses.

“Well I do want to take a nap.” Approaching him, I let the door close behind me and I reach for the front of his shirt before I slide a hand underneath. “What we do if you're not tired yet is up for discussion.”

“Fuuuck--” His gravelly voice rumbles in his chest as he peers down. He drops his phone into the pocket of his pants, then his hands move to hold the sides of my head. With a lazy pace, he urges me back against the door. “I'm not tired yet.”

Just as a smile tugs at my cheeks, my mouth finds his as I reach up to close my grip around his forearms. Moaning softly against his kiss, I ease away. “We can work on that.”

He smells good. I can tell he just showered, dressed simply in faded olive green pants and a grey t-shirt.

I had spent the afternoon alone, actually making the time to get my run in through Prospect Park after Noble left my apartment. The physical exertion felt good, waking up my muscles once again and redirecting my focus.

Our plan for the night is to spend the evening in the penthouse, low-key and out of trouble. A part of me thinks Noble is still shaken up by the attempted robbery from the night before and I can't blame him. I'm relieved when a night in is all he really wants for his Saturday.

He just sort of hums his appreciation and lets his weight fall against me, lips touching the side of my neck. “Oh my god, I can’t leave tomorrow,” he mutters in a weary groan. “What the fuck? How am I supposed to leave--?”

“Shh--” I cut him off with a harsh whisper. “Why are you talking about that?”

“Alright, I know.” He leans back a little, idly dragging fingertips along the back of my head before he moves to my shoulder to slip off the backpack that’s hanging there. “We're gonna have a good night.”

“Are you wearing those on purpose just to mess with me?” I nod my head as I pass by, leading him further into the apartment.

“What, my glasses?”

“Yeah.”

With a smirk, he adjusts them on his face and trails off to set my backpack in his bedroom. “I slept at your place with my contacts in last night,” he calls out. “So I'm paying the price.”

“I’m into it.”

“I’m glad my suffering is your pleasure.”

“A little bit.”

He laughs and makes his way back before he gestures down the hall to the guest bedroom. “Yeah? Well the spare bedroom is free. You know, if you want to go  _take your nap_.”

“You think I’m came over here to take a nap in your  _spare bedroom_?”

With a playful shine, his eyes flash and that grin that’s my absolute undoing teases me. Then he opens his mouth to draw in an exaggerated breath. “Oh, you want to take a nap with  _me_?”

He barely finishes before I fake a punch to his stomach, then his chest and he deflates with an airy chuckle. Backing up down the hall, Noble returns the jab as I follow him toward his bedroom.

* * *

 

We drift off to sleep in his bed eventually.

But not before we had sex once again, unhurried and content in the dreamy light of Saturday late afternoon. It didn't take long before we pulled off each other's clothes and wound up provoking one another until I needed to feel him inside.

On top of me, Noble still managed that self-restraint. But it felt so good to relent more than I had the night before, that grounded trust I had in him taking over, reassuring. The all-over contact of his body against mine, the solid weight of him, heightened everything. I rode that feeling as long as I could, desperate for the release, but wishing it would never end.

Slowly rousing from my nap, I stretch beneath the cool but heavy and probably expensive covers of his bed. After the day I had yesterday, this is everything I want. I can't remember the last time I felt this at ease, spent but in the most satisfied way.

I shift beside him until my heavy head nudges his shoulder. There my palm lazily skates across him, feeling the path of his arm that bends alongside his head until my hand finds his, clasping his fingers.

With a faint groan, he reciprocates, the tip of his thumb tracing my palm but he's still off somewhere else in sleep.

After a few beats, tangled there with me, he manages a gradual inhale as he turns closer.

“Did we sleep the whole night?” He mutters.

Laughing softly, I open my eyes then glance over to the nightstand. “No.” I shift and grab my phone to check. “A couple hours. It's six-thirty.”

“Damn.” Stretching on his back, he slides his palms up his face and into his messy hair, a deep breath expanding his chest. “I had a dream about that guy.”

“What guy?”

Propped on his elbows, he glances down at himself. He pushes off the sheets to examine his right side, the plane of his torso. “The guy who held me up.”

I turn to look down at his stomach that he's scrutinizing, his skin unscarred, and I trail my hand there. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs and falls back to his pillow. “I dreamed that he actually stabbed me. Like he found me later or something.”

I exhale sort of a sad laugh. “Well he was armed, and had a record. And resisted arrest,” I assure him. “So he's not out looking for you anytime soon, I can tell you that.”

He seems to ponder this with a faraway look and a faint nod before he reaches over for his glasses. He pushes them on his face and stretches one more time. “He’ll never find me in this bed, so I guess we should just stay here.”

Sitting up, I lean over to press a kiss on his side, just under his ribcage. “What do you want to do tonight?”

He lets a hand fall to my head. “I went to the store. I’m making dinner.”

“Seriously?”

He smiles. “What, you thought I had no plan? I’ve always got a plan.”

“No, I just-- I don’t know. I figured we’d take it easy, order pizza or something.”

“It’s not like, an arduous task to make dinner--”

“ _Arduous_ ,” I echo in an amused breath.

He gestures to his face. “It’s the glasses.”

I smirk. “Okay then you making dinner sounds good to me. I mean, I hate to keep you away from your illegal poker ring on Wall Street--”

My tease is cut off and I flinch with a protesting chuckle as he grips my waist to retaliate.

“But--” I continue. “I won’t charge you with a thousand dollar buy-in to hang out with me.”

“Oh well good, I can save my money, then,” he tells me. “Because I won it back. And thanks to you, no one ran off with it.”

I arch a curious eyebrow. I hadn’t thought about Noble actually making it out of there with any kind of winnings. “How much did you take home last night?”

He looks at me, just sort of scrunching his cheek with a twist of his lips.

“How much?” I wonder.

Clearing his throat, he shifts in bed, tossing the covers off himself and gets up. I watch him, in well-fitting black boxer briefs and nothing else, move across the room. At the closet, he slides open one of the built-in drawers there, then turns around and tosses a thick stack of folded bills onto the bed in front of me.

“-- _The fuck_ , Noble?” I wail. “What’s this?”

“Almost seven.”

“Seven thousand dollars?”

“Yeah.”

“How the hell’d you make seven grand? I thought it was just some regular guys who played poker.”

“I told you,” he contends. “It’s a pretty decent buy-in because it’s pretty decent stakes. Not bad for a few hours playing cards, huh?”

I pick up the money, sliding my thumb across the edges of the hundred dollar bills. “Dude, how about you  _don’t_  walk down the street in the middle of the night with this much cash on you. Jeez--”

“Yeah, well it’s not high enough stakes that they deal in wire transfers.”

“What’d you do, hustle these guys? Damn. They’ll probably all come after you too.”

“I don’t usually leave a table with that much.” He laughs, shifting to retrieve his clothes off the floor.  “And I claim it as income, by the way. So don’t get all-- you know. I’m a law-abiding citizen.”

The corner of my smile twitches when he makes sure to tell me he’s straight with the IRS, but I’m still hung up on the fact that he won that kind of money. “So you’re like,  _good_?”

He shrugs as he pulls on his t-shirt, then adjusts his glasses. “It depends on the table. I did alright.”

I pass the cash back to him and I shake my head, amused. “You definitely did alright.”

“I don’t know. That whole thing last night may have put me off gambling for a while,” he reasons. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“That’s probably smart.” I offer a thoughtful nod. “And hey, if you feel the urge to play, just play with me.”

Scratching fingers through his hair, he laughs softly. “Yeah? Can you play poker?”

I smile at him from where I sit on the bed. “I don’t know. I can figure it out.”

He narrows an amused gaze at me, as if to determine if I’m bluffing about my amateur skills. “You’d try to fucking hustle me?” He teases, reaching down to grasp the down comforter to tug it off of me. “Hustle a hustler?”

“I don’t have seven grand to lose, but you do,” I shoot back, making my way up to my knees on his bed. I pull the covers back, luring him closer and he tips over to capture my mouth.

Lingering for a kiss, he teases his tongue across my bottom lip and quirks an interested eyebrow. “We can play, but I’m not taking your money.”

“Alright.” I let go of the covers and inch back before I make my way out of bed. “Decide which  _assets_ of mine you want to play for. And then deal me in.” 


	11. Chapter 11

“You're getting some unexpected Italian tonight, I hope you know.” Noble turns from the refrigerator, popping the cap off a beer bottle and sliding it to me on the countertop. “Try this.”

I examine the label. “Unexpected Italian? I hope I do.”

“I mean the beer.” He drops his own cap and tips his bottle to mine. “Normally I’m a wine guy, but I went with Italian beer tonight. I’m a rebel. Cheers.”

A smirk flicks at my lips as the glass clinks. “Cheers.” And I lift the rim of the bottle, pulling a crisp gulp before I consider it with a thoughtful swallow. “That's good.”

“That is good,” he agrees, moving across the kitchen where he retrieves a knife and a cutting board. “Nina did good.”

“Oh, so you sent her?”

“Well I  _asked_ her to go to Caputo's for me. I had a very specific list,” he explains. “But. People know me at that grocery store, so--”

“Does she ever ask who's keeping you company and eating all this food with you?” I wonder as I pull out the counter height chair opposite him and slide into it.

He smiles, turning away from the refrigerator. “I've mentioned you.”

“Really?” My lips twitch, amused before I tip my beer there.

“Maybe.”

I leave it at that with a teasing shine in my gaze while I watch him. “The idea of you making a grocery list is…” I pause to exhale a soft laugh then I narrow my eyes at him. “I don't know. It's cute.”

He scoffs. “Cute?”

“It is.” I shrug. “You surprise me.”

After setting a tray on the countertop between us, he adds a few small glass bowls, then returns to his cutting board. “So you've mentioned this before, but confirm something for me.”

“Okay.”

“You're allergic to olives.” With a serrated knife, he slices some thick pieces of bread and adds them to the tray.

Swallowing my sip of beer, I tilt my head side to side. “Technically, I'm allergic to  _ferrous gluconate_ \--” I start, anticipating a huge roll of his eyes but he nods in realization instead.

“Ohh, I see. That's different then.” Noble decides. He adds more, some purple grapes, some uneven, shaved-off slices of pale and white cheeses. “So just black olives.”

“What are you, a doctor?”

“No I'm just saying.” He chuckles. “You're allergic to the compound they're soaked in to turn them black.”

“Uh.” I feel my brows draw together. “Possibly? I've just always assumed olives to make it easy.”

“Well that hurts my soul a little bit because I could live on olives,” he laments. “The good kind. Not those shiny black abominations from a can--”

“Okay why is this something you know?”

“When I was in culinary school we studied a decent amount of food allergies.” He says it and then adds to the last of his spread before he leans closer to explain it. “So this is focaccia bread. These are my favorite olives, they're cerignolas, and then kalamatas,” he lists with this endearing enthusiasm that I can't help but be charmed by. “I'm fairly confident neither of these will trigger an allergic reaction. But. I'm not interested in taking you to the emergency room tonight, so you don't need to risk it. You can skip those--”

“How did I not know you went to culinary school?”

“I don't know. Why didn't you know?” Smirking, he lifts his gaze to me. “This cheese here is gouda, this one is Piave vecchio. And then… grapes and pears.”

My mouth opens with a dumbfounded breathy laugh. “Damn, Noble.”

“It’s a lot. But dude, I miss Caputo's on a serious level,” he tells me. “I mean, when I'm alone at night in Miami, and my mind wanders, ninety percent of the time, I'm thinking about you. But the other ten percent…”

I chuckle against my beer bottle before I manage a hard swallow. “You're lying in bed getting hard over cheese and olives?”

“I won't deny it.”

I lean in and point over the tray. “Say this one again.”

“Piave vecchio.”

I pick up a piece of the cheese and drop it in my mouth, arching an interested eyebrow at him while I chew. “Mm-hm. And say that one.” I point to the glass dish of green olives.

He exhales a breathy laugh and picks one up. “Cerignola.”

“ _Cheri-nyola_ ,” I do my best to echo back to him.

He tosses it in his mouth. “There you go.”

“When are you gonna teach me Italian?”

“I don’t speak Italian,” he says as he backs up and starts to put away containers that he had pulled from the refrigerator. “I only know food and wine-related words.”

“The important ones.”

“Exactly.”

Scanning the tray again, I reach for another piece of cheese. “I thought you had a business degree.”

“I do. And then culinary school a couple years after I graduated.”

I nod, taking the time to consider that as I lean onto my elbows on the counter. “That's impressive. I figured you just liked to cook because you grew up that way.”

“Well yeah, but then when I wanted to pursue owning a restaurant, I figured I needed a more technical training.”

I nod as I angle my beer to my lips once again. That soft tug of sadness reminds me how what he loves to do was lost when he had to become someone else. And if he could really only indulge that passion, that gift with me -- and probably his sister and a few friends when he felt like entertaining at home -- then I'd happily let him.

“None of this required cooking by the way,” he reminds me with a slanted smile before he snaps off a grape and pops it into his mouth. “I'll cook later. For now let's take this--” He picks up the tray and comes around toward the dining room table. “And drink. While I beat you at poker.”

Resigned to my chair, I just watch him. I'm stuck in this moment that sneaks up on me of the love I have for him. And I’m certain it’s already consumed me. The appreciation that swells in my chest for someone who makes me feel so genuinely good, like it's nothing, like it's intuitive to him. He hasn’t convinced himself he owes me anything; this is just the way he is.

From where he stands at the table, he looks back at me as he bites down on a crisp slice of pear. “Or would you rather I make dinner now?” He wonders, pointing back to the kitchen. “I can make you something else if you’re bummed about all the olives--”

“No.” I have to laugh as I step down from my chair, grasp my beer and head his way. “Trust me, I’m very much… not bummed.”

Noble watches me as I approach, pressing his lips together. The earthy glow in his eyes warmed from the dim lamp light in the room. “Okay good.”

Reaching over, I set my drink on the table, then with one step closer, I slide my hand along the side of his neck before I touch my mouth to his. Softly, I let a kiss linger there, just long enough to feel the flicker of heat that always comes alive in my core when my lips find his.

Then I ease away and with a soft murmur, assure him, “You make me really happy.”

He lets his forehead fall against mine and hums a quiet laugh. Then he peers lower, another broken breath deflating his chest a little bit and he bites down on a smile as he urges himself a step back.

“Alright, I’m ready for all that stupid money to be mine,” I tease, backing up to pull out a chair at the table. “I got this guy down in Miami I need to go visit pretty soon.”

“I don’t know. Maybe I want to use that money and take someone I know to southern Italy.”

I feel the excitement twitch my brow and I look up at him over the outline of my beer bottle. Lowering it, I swallow a heavy gulp and let out a loud exhale. “Well you better tell that someone you have a boyfriend.”

His gaze settles on me, that shiny green flashing there when he smiles. Then he looks off and shakes him head. “I'm gonna go get my cards. And I can't be ruthless with you when you're this cute, so cut it out.” As he passes by me, he digs a strong hand in my hair, squeezing before he heads down the hall.

“See I'm not a good poker player,” I lean back to call after him. “So I have to use other strategies.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Serious question--” Noble starts. He knocks the edge of the deck of cards against the table before he idly drops them into his other palm.

“Mm-kay.”

“Can the bet involve your handcuffs?”

A laugh rumbles out of me as I reach for my beer. “The handcuffs hurt, man.”

“Like good hurt, or bad hurt?” He wonders.

My brow arches at his curiosity. “Like bad hurt.”

Leaning forward, he cuts the deck and divides them to shuffle as he mutters, “Ah, I could take it.”

“Whoa, wai-- wait.”

“What?”

“I thought you're assuming you'd  _win_.”

He shrugs. “I'll definitely win.”

My brows shift in confusion and I glance to the side while I ponder which one of us he'd hypothetically want in handcuffs. “So--”

“What?” He plays clueless with a little flick of a smirk.

Just then, a polite little  _rap-rap-rap_  knocks on the door down the short hallway behind him.

“Wait, tell me what you consider  _good hurt_ ,” I tease him, pushing back my chair to stand up.

He lets out a loud, knowing laugh. “That's Nina at the door.”

“I want to get it.” I offer a playful grin as I pass by.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I bet you do.”

When Noble had given me a quick reminder of the rules to Texas Hold’em, he placed a call down to the lobby to get a case of poker chips delivered to his room. And apparently that was not an odd request because it wasn’t ten minutes later that Greenwich staff made it happen.

I cross to the end of the entryway and glance out the peephole before I pull open the door.

I'm greeted by a smile and a flash of surprise in dark eyes. Nina's familiar face, a polished black dress and glossy, almost-as-black ponytail.

“Hi there,” I offer.

“Well hello.” I don't miss the faint curve at her lips when she seems to recognize me. “Jamie.” She doesn't say my name in a question. More like she's confirming it, reconnecting a face with it.

“Nina, come in for a sec,” Noble calls out before he comes closer.

She obliges, her high heels announcing her idle pace on the wood floors. “How are you boys doing this evening?”

Stepping back to let her pass, I ease the door shut and follow in behind her.

“Excellent,” he answers.

“Your poker chips.” She crosses the room and places the small case on the table. Then she straightens up to rest her hands on the curve of her waist and surveys Noble's spread of food. “Oh look at this. How nice.”

“Yeah I heard you had a hand in this,” I muse.

“I do what I can. Anything for my favorite guest.”

“Oh ho--” Lifting his eyebrows, he cuts a smug glance my way. “See? She's too good to me.”

“I can see that. Don't do it to him,” I tell her. “Then it goes to his head and he leaves town and doesn't know what to do with himself without you.”

Nina manages a playful quirk of her gaze as she flits her lashes.

“It's true.” He smiles. “So then I just keep coming back.”

“You come back because of this handsome one.” Shifting to pass by us, she pats a hand gently on my chest. “I'm not blind.”

I blink hard, caught off guard by the praise and make a face at Noble like I'm impressed. “Oh, who's the favorite guest now?”

“No way. Dream on, handsome,” he scoffs, but the sentiment still flickers in my gut a little.

I shake my head with a laugh and move toward the table for my beer. “He needs the ego stroking,” I decide. “Because he's about to lose pretty hard tonight.”

Noble lets out this dismayed groan and I have to laugh as I glance back at him. “He'll regret saying that later,” he mutters.

“Mm. Go easy on him, Jamie.” Nina makes her way to the kitchen as if to take stock, aware of the fact that this hotel is hosting us. She assesses the coffee and pulls open the fridge and notes that he needs more bottled water, that she'll send some up. “Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”

“Should we deal you in?” Noble wonders.

With an airy note in her voice, she wonders, “Just cards? No.”

Pressing his lips together, Noble's gaze cuts over to mine. I meet it there and quirk an eyebrow. The both of us pause a moment with a meaningful squint and I have to wonder what she  _would_ be game for joining.

“I’ll leave you boys to it.”

Noble clears his throat and grasps his beer from the table. “Alright. Thanks again,” he tells her. “If you hear loud sobbing coming from up here later on, it’s Jamie losing all his money.”

With a giggle, she shakes her head and makes her way down the hall as she calls out, “I like you in those glasses, Nick.” Then she lets herself out.

The door closes and I turn back to look at Noble, brows raised in anticipation. “Damn.”

“What, you like her?”

“I mean,  _damn_ how long have you guys been sleeping together?”

“Oh shut up.” He rolls his eyes, but laughs anyway.

With a teasing smirk, I echo her words. “Anything for my favorite guest.”

“Can we play?”

“Wait, have you?”

“No!” He insists with a hearty chuckle and gently shoves me back at my chest.

A little smirk quirks my lips. “Just asking.” I step back and return to my chair. “So are we going to name the terms of this bet, or what? Because I didn’t bring any cash. I might have a five--”

“Your money is useless to me.” He reaches over and takes an olive from the tray on the table before he sits down and drops it in his mouth. “The question is did you bring your handcuffs?”

I have to smile as I reach for a piece of the crusty bread there and busy myself ripping it apart. “Yeah, I have them.”

Noble picks up his beer and considers it before he decides, “If I win, you handcuff me.”

“And then what?”

He swallows hard and breathes out a soft laugh. “And then I stay handcuffed.”

I narrow my gaze at him. “How is that a win for you?”

“Because I said so.”

While I ponder it, I can’t help the twitch of my eyebrow at the possibilities. “And what if I win?”

He drags the case of poker chips closer and flips it open. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Mm-hm.”

Nodding thoughtfully, I watch him focus on the stacks of red, blue and green chips he pulls out. As he makes his meticulous stacks, he glances up at me. “So what if you win?” He wonders.

I turn my empty beer bottle on the table and push back to stand up. “You’re gonna get fucked, that’s what.”

With a slack open mouth, he turns to watch me as I move to the kitchen and I have to smile back at him.

He coughs, amused and arches one eyebrow in this genuinely caught off guard way that makes me laugh.

“You’ve said before you’d be down for it.” I pull open the fridge and retrieve two beers.

“Uh--” He exhales hard. The corners of his mouth flick, but he still hasn’t closed it yet. “I’m down for it right now, do we have to play cards?”

“Yeah we have to play.” After twisting off both caps, I cross back to hand off a beer.

“Well I’m about to fold every hand and lose on purpose. Ready?”

I stop at his chair, standing over him while I tip the bottle to my lips. After a long swallow, I shake my head at him. “No. You gotta play the game. What’s the fun in folding every hand?” When I ask, I turn and step over his lap, sliding between his seat and the edge of the table.

Tilting his head back on the cushioned dining room chair, he looks up at me. “A lot. A lot of fun,” he answers. “If it makes the game end faster.”

“No, no, no,” I tease. I sink lower until I straddle his lap and he easily tugs me closer. “I’m only playing if we’re playing for real.” Just barely, I angle against him, urging the slight spark of friction between us. He draws a sharp inhale through his nose and I feel his hand coast across my back, under my t-shirt. But I merely look at him and take another drink.

“Alright, I’ll play for real.”

“Good,” I decide. Then I lean in to press a sobering kiss on his cheek and push myself up, not missing the disappointed little grunt that escapes him. “Let’s play.”


	13. Chapter 13

“So when's the last time you had sex?”

His question makes my thoughts stall a moment and I just look at him in confusion. “When's the last time  _you_ did?”  I have to laugh at the sort of lazy chuckle he lets out as he peers down at the deck of cards he’s shuffling. His idiot smile makes my face feel hot.

“Present company excluded,” he clarifies. “When was it?”

“Oh my god,” I mutter before downing another swallow of my beer and killing time reaching for a piece of cheese. “Uh…” Then I shake my head venturing a guess because I can barely remember that law school unofficial five year reunion in Boston, even though it was just a few months ago. “This past summer some time,” I tell him.

“Some time?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I don't know. I'm just curious,” he insists. “Who was it?”

I laugh at him. “Why do you want to know?”

“Was it a girlfriend?”

“Not really. No,” I tell him. “I was back in Cambridge to visit some old friends from law school. A girl from my class I sort of had a thing with when we were 1Ls--” Then I shrug, figuring that was a good enough explanation of the easy hook-up with Dana I had chalked up to  _for old time’s sake_.

“Wait, where did you go to law school?” He questions.

My gaze narrows and I regret that I used the dead giveaway city name. Dammit. I tip my bottle all the way until my head falls back and I finish my beer, then I breathe out. “Boston Community College.”

He lets out this rumbling chuckle. “No, tell me.”

“What's with the interrogation?”

“Did you go to Harvard?”

“Yeah.”

His head arches back and he cackles this loud laugh up to the ceiling. “What the  _fuck_?”

“It's not a big deal. Don't be one of these people who thinks it's a big deal.”

“Okay it's not a big deal.” He concedes with this tic at the corner if his lips. He cuts the deck and shuffles one more time.

Easing my chair back, I head to the kitchen. “I’m getting another beer. Want anything?”

“Yes,” he answers. “There’s a lot I want from you. Now let’s play, so I can get it.”

****

“Why would you do that?” Noble mutters. With loose fingers, he fidgets with a stack of his blue chips.

Settling back, I narrow my gaze. “Do what?”

“Call on the flop and then raise big on the turn.”

I glance between us at the stacks of chips that don’t actually hold any monetary value, they’re just a placeholder to determine who’s winning. “Because I felt like raising.”

“You just told me you have an Ace.”

I laugh. “I didn’t tell you shit.”

“The way you bet tells me.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” My flippant smugness amuses him. “But there’s a hundred dollars right there so if you wanna call, then call. But if you’re too scared, I guess you’ll never know.”

He sputters a hard laugh, a grin pulling at his cheeks and he leans back to assess his chips. The stacks he has so clearly outweigh mine. But I’ll still talk shit.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. With he edge of his thumb, he lifts the corner of his cards again and checks them against the ones on the table. “You have weak Aces. But it’s cute that you think I’d be scared.”

“You don’t know what I have.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“What are weak Aces?”

“You have an Ace,” he assumes. “And a six.”

I hold still, unwavering, but I feel the slightest twitch at my lip.

He exhales a soft laugh, plucks a black chip from his stack and carelessly flicks it in the pot. “Fine. I’ll call, Ace-six.”

“It’s not like it’s real money,” I remind him.

“We agreed, though, that we’d play as if it’s real money. The strategy is in the betting, not the cards.”

“Fine, let’s see the river, then.”

He shakes his head and reaches to flip over a card from the deck. “You better hope it’s a six.” He turns over a Queen and lays it on the table.

I watch his face, unchanged but it’s difficult to tell how hard he’s trying to mess with me.

Glancing down at his chips, he leads off with the bet. He considers it, then picks up a hundred dollar black chip before he looks at me once more. Then he picks up another one, challenging me with a two hundred dollar bet as he tosses the chips in the middle.

“Dammit,” I whisper.

“You can fold.”

“No, I want your money. You’re trying to get me to fold.”

He merely shrugs.

“You’re bluffing with that two hundred dollar bet.”

Another shrug. “And you have a pair of Aces, which is fairly solid.”

“Stop guessing my cards!”

“You’re a cop.” He reaches for his beer, the amusement evident on his face. “Aren’t you supposed to know whether or not I’m bluffing?”

“My judgment is skewed with you.”

“Do you even have two hundred in chips over there?” Angling forward, he peers at my dwindling chip count.

“Shut up. Damn.” I sigh. “Okay, hypothetically, let’s say I have a pair of Aces--”

Noble props his chin in his hand on the table and offers a meaningful nod.

“Would it beat whatever you have?”

He doesn’t look anywhere else but me as he lets out a quiet laugh. “Is this your strategy? To be so cute that I just tell you my cards?”

“I don’t know how else to do it.”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“What  _can_ you tell me?” I attempt.

“I can tell you that it looks like the only one getting fucked here tonight is you.”

My brows pull together as my mouth falls open. “Asshole.”

He chuckles. “Hey, I’m sad about it. I was hoping you’d win.”

“Game’s not over,” I mutter, peering down to study my cards once again. “I’m not surrendering that ass just yet.”

“I have questions about that, by the way.”

“About what?”

His brows shift as if I should know what. “I know you're just good at everything, so I guess that's how. But. I mean--” He pauses with a pensive glance away. “Is the trick to just relax, and then it's--”

“I'm good at it?” I laugh. “I'm good at being your bottom?”

“Hell yeah you're good.”

“Well you're good too.”

“But I, you know -- I'm… interested.”

“Interested in mixing things up?”

“Every now and then. Maybe.” He smirks. “I probably have to work up to it huh?”

“I had some help. I did my homework.”

His eyes flash with curiosity when one eyebrow jumps. “I had a feeling you’d been up to something. What kind of help?”

“I practiced.”

“With like a butt plug?”

I nearly choke on my beer with a laugh and set it down hard on the table. “I'll send you a link.”

“Wait, really?”

“Dude you're big. You think I could just sit on it and take it like it's no big deal?”

Noble sputters a surprised laugh so hard he keels over in his chair. “I-- oh my god,” he sighs the words in a weary breath. “I really really like you. God damn.”

“You really really like me?” I eye him underneath an arched brow as I tap my stack of red chips on the table.

“Mm-hm.” He works to tame a smile as he glances down to look at his cards once more. “Well looks like I have some homework to do once I get back to Miami.”

“Or maybe you'll just get a crash course tonight once I win this pot.”

“Oh-ho, look at that.” He smirks. “You're feeling pretty confident about those Aces.”

“Alright, that's enough out of you.”

“Can you call my two hundred?” He gestures to the chips in the pot. “Or do you fold?”

“You never answered the question about the last person you slept with.”

Averting his gaze as if he has to mentally search his memory, he stalls a moment. “Uh-- Nobody serious.”

“Okay so--?”

“You'll judge me.”

“Probably.”

“It was before… you came back into the picture. Well--” He pauses and glances up to reconsider. “Sort of.”

I have to laugh even though a part of me feels a tug of jealousy that I know is unwarranted but I can't help.

“It was a girl I would run into here now and then. But with her it was just a one-time… bad idea.”

“Was it the girl from the pool party?” When I ask I'm mostly joking but he makes this face that tells me I guessed right. “The one who told me her dad owns this hotel?”

“Yeah,” he admits.

I groan, glancing back toward his bedroom.

“It wasn't here,” he clarifies. “It was her room.”

My forehead creases with my critical gaze. “Really?”

“Dude, I'm not proud of it. I was in a weird place that night after seeing you and… I don't know,” he trails off.

“Oh,  _I_  had something to do with it? I doubt that,” I say. “I'm sure I was easily forgotten once she got you upstairs.”

“Never,” he murmurs.

“I thought you said she was nineteen.”

“Man--” He starts with a shake of his head and I can't help giving him a hard time. “Don't-- I regret asking this question.”

“Sick pervert,” I mutter the tease.

“My brain wasn't functioning,” he explains. “I had just seen you for the first time in a year. And I couldn't figure out why I was seriously aroused seeing you in that uniform.”

“I don't want to hear it.” My lips twist to deny a grin but it breaks through anyway when he looks at me like he's trying to convince me of his innocence.

Glancing down, I manage to gather together two hundred dollars out of all the blue and green chips I have left and push them into the center. “I'll call, player.”

He glances up at me, intrigued, then picks up his two cards to show them on the table.

My brow wrinkles as I study the ten and Jack that he has. “What's that?”

“A straight.”

“Fucker,” I mutter as I push my chair back before I flick my cards to the table. “There's your goddamn Ace-six--”

“Ha!”

“How'd you know?” I cry. “Did you see them?”

“No, your face!” He chuckles. “And the way you play. That's how.”

Picking up my beer, I prop it against my lips and manage a heavy gulp before I land it hard on the table. Then I turn and stalk off to the bedroom.

“You played pretty good though,” he calls out from the dining room. “If it weren't for that last Queen, you would have won.”

After I fish my off duty handcuffs out of my backpack, I make my way back. “Whatever, don't patronize me,” I tell him. “Get up. Put your hands on the table.”

Noble's eyes light up as his mouth opens in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

“You won didn't you?”

He glances down at himself, then at the handcuffs I’m holding. “Don’t you want them behind my back?”

I look at him, the coy shine in his eyes when he smirks at me and assumes I’ll let him run this game. But fuck that, the one he’s good at is over. “I need to search you,” I tell him.

He breathes out a low, amused exhale and lifts his gaze to me. “Oh yeah?”

“I’ll ask the questions, alright?” I warn him, with a meaningful pull of my brow but I can feel the playful flicker in my eyes anyway. “Get up.”

Letting his head fall back, he cackles a loud laugh at the ceiling. “Holy shit.” Then he clears his throat and slides his chair back to stand up. “Absolutely, officer.” As he turns to face the table, he glances back at me over his shoulder. “Wait, if I resist, what happens?”

“Try me.”

He eagerly drags his teeth along his bottom lip, then breathes out a whispered, “ _Fuck_.” He drops his palms hard on the table, spread wide and hangs his head. “You know I will. I can't behave.”

With one leg, I knock him closer against the table and follow in behind, my hip pressed against him.

He lets out a gravelly exhale when my weight traps him and I run my hands down his sides.

“Why don't you tell me about this girl?” I start. “Is that what you want?”

“No. There's nothing to tell.”

“Why not?”

“Because I hardly remember--  _mmh_ …” He tilts back, a sharp breath hitching in his chest when I stroke my palm up the front of his pants. “You're all I remember from that night.”

“What do you remember?”

“That I got hard just seeing you there.” He stops as a hot exhale escapes him and he pushes himself into my hand. “And it wasn't the first time.”

I feel one eyebrow jump as I lean in and touch my mouth to the back of his neck. “Is that right?” With one hand, I unbutton his pants and begin to ease the zipper down.

“Yes,” he manages.

“Thought you didn't have feelings for Jimmy Riordan.”

A soft laugh escapes him as he rocks back, the curve of his ass seeking friction against my growing hard-on. “I don't know  _what_ I felt but if you think I wouldn't have sucked your dick in the bathroom of that bar after I met you, you're wrong.”

I breathe out hard, slipping my hand into the open waist of his pants for a firm grope of his shaft that strains against his boxers. “Yeah you looked hot that night. There may have been a window of like, three seconds where I forgot I was a cop.”

He merely manages another lazy groan in his chest, slowly rocking himself into my hand.

“Until you basically fell out in the middle of the floor--”

“Dammit!”

I have to laugh as I push my other hand up his back, under his t-shirt and down the firm plane of his side.

“Why do you have to bring up that part?”

“I was hoping it was about to be the best party we've ever been to,” I remind him of his own promise. “But it didn't turn out that way.”

“Well I'm not that stupid anymore. So we can make that party happen tonight, Officer.”

I push his shirt up his body and lean into him. “Are you attempting to bribe me?”

“Yes.” He moves his arms and ducks his head to help me but quickly returns to his position as soon as I toss the shirt to the floor.

“With an illegal substance?”

“No, with my mouth.”

I hum a low laugh behind his back and ease my hand once more in and out of his pants prompting his apparent frustration. “It’s tempting,” I tell him. Then, gripping his forearm, I guide his arm behind his back. “But we’re not finished.”

He groans in a hot breath as I tug the other arm back and grasp the cuffs I had tucked into the edge of my pocket.

“You wanna change your mind?” I question him.

He glances over his shoulder and offers this helpless quirk of a smile at his lips. Squinting one eye, he answers, “Kinda?”

But I close one of the handcuffs around his wrist anyway. “What?”

“Oh my god,” he sort of moans and laughs at the same time.

Once I secure the other one, I hold onto the bend in his elbow and pull him back to me. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he answers, almost arrogantly.

“Good hurt, or bad hurt?” I wonder.

He clears his throat and tries to adjust his arms. “Good hurt.”

I laugh softly and turn him in the direction of the hallway. “Yeah? Let’s go see how good it hurts in the bedroom.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit smut warning for this chapter. :)

“Alright fine, this hurts more than I thought it would.” Noble groans his complaint from underneath me where he sits on the edge of the bed, naked aside from the pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

I breathe out a throaty laugh as I edge closer to him, my knees straddling his lap. “Uh-huh. I told you.”

Helplessly, he tips his head back and peers up at me as he manages a pathetic whimper.

I’m amused as I brush a kiss across his lips. With a tease of my tongue, I ease back. “I thought you said you could take it.”

“Yeah but I can't touch you.”

“I know.” I dip down and mumble the words into the side of his neck. “That's not fair.”

“Oh no no,” he rattles with a laugh as I make my way down. “You'll kill me.”

“No I won't,” I tell him as I step back off the bed but I stay close to him and sink lower to my knees. I glance up at him. “I'll be nice.”

Noble merely swallows down another rumbling grunt and shifts in front of me.

As I grasp his thick cock, stiff in front of me, my hand skates the length of it. “You don't believe me?”

All he can do is laugh again as he tilts closer. “You're asking for it.”

“That's big talk from someone who can't use his hands right now.” Leaning in, I take him in my mouth with a teasing stroke of my tongue.

He exhales hard at the sensation. “Have you done this before? Why do I feel like you have?”

“No.” I smile with a shake of my head before I taste him once again, letting a soft moan escape when my lips wrap around the smooth head of his cock. With a light flick of my tongue, I stroke the ridge there and then sink my mouth farther before I pull back to tell him, “I've only ever been on the  _receiving_ end when it comes to being handcuffed in bed.”

“What?” He coughs, then tips his head back when he can't restrain a deep groan.

I close my fist around him and follow the slick path of my mouth.

“You're such a  _slut_ , oh my god,” he complains in a weary sigh.

Easing away, I have to laugh at the accusation and I explain, “Things happen in the police academy.”

“Please tell me that story sometime so that I can make you forget whoever it was.”

“Mm--” I breathe a low moan as I rise up on my knees. “I already have,” I confess before I lean in and take him deeper. I use my free hand to pull him closer at his hip, digging fingers there. My touch drags down his thigh, a heavy palm stroking the muscular curve there.

“ _Ahh_ \--” He manages a gravelly sigh and I feel him straighten in front of me. “Get up. I can't--”

I drag my tongue as my head pulls back and I blink up at him, caught off guard when I'd just started to let go of the tease. “What? You want them off?”

“Yeah.”

With a soft chuckle I get to my feet. “It's not fun, is it?”

“Not when I want you this bad.”

Stepping over to my bag on the floor, I find the keys and quickly return to him. “Well you did win,” I remind him. “So whatever you want.”

“I want you on the bed.”

My eyebrow flicks with an excited jump as I kneel beside him and fit the key in the lock of the cuffs. I give it an expert twitch of my wrist before I slip them off and drop them on the floor.

The release prompts his groan of relief and immediately, he takes over with fingers in my hair. He tugs me down to straddle his lap as his mouth crushes mine.

My body responds in an instant at the feeling of his hands on me. I tilt into him, my hard-on pulsing with need and it makes this ache swirl in my core, I want him so bad.

Easily we shift and untangle and without anymore words needed, I give into his lead. I know from the urgency of his breath, from the strength of his grip, how he wants me.  

He follows in behind when he directs me across the bed, face-down. The weight of him, his hips at mine, feels so fucking good when he moves against me, and the rigid column of his dick teases between my cheeks.

He rides me there in a slow grinding rhythm, his forehead on the back of my shoulder. It's enough for me to rumble a needy groan from the friction between him and the bed beneath me.

“Mm, don't move,” he tells me before he shifts away for a moment.

I stay there, deep breaths fill my back and I hitch one knee up on the covers, tilting back on my hip when he returns behind me. Impatiently, I reach up for him, hooking a hand around the back of his neck to bring him closer just as he starts to press a slick middle finger inside me.

Muffling a restrained sigh, my eyes fall closed at the sensation. I rock back against him as he teases me there, a circling pulse of his fingertip.

We had taken our time earlier in the day, before we slept away a lazy afternoon, with kisses so long they stung my lips. Then, we held back with a careful give-and-take that was already so damn intense, it didn't take much to give in to our eager release.

But now neither one of us is interested in taking any time and I'm ready for him in this greedy, insatiable way. Once he eases his length in, I'm unwound enough to take it all. The groan that thunders from me is just outdone by his own when he fills me this good.

He exhales into the side of my neck, grips me at my side, and with a smooth stroke, thrusts so goddamn perfect that the heat of mind-numbing euphoria throbs everywhere in my pulse. It's a languid pace but it's hot as hell the way he never backs away from me, never pulling out, just buries himself deeper.

We're both shameless with loud, low growls that pound in our chests as we grasp for one another. Reaching up, I dig my hand in his hair and he lets go of moan that I feel on my skin. There he mumbles against my shoulder, breathy encouragement about the way I feel, the way I take his cock.

When I tug his hair once more, he straightens up and pushes his weight harder against me. His hand coasts the bent leg of mine that's hitched up on the bed and he urges me over even more. He shoves up my bent knee and I'm his completely, gripping the sheets there in my hand, I think they pull off the the corner of the mattress.

My chest heaving with every harsh panting breath, I bury my face, murmuring for him to  _fuck me_  and the command just drags out of me in a rattled moan.

_Fuck_ he's so in control and so possessive of me and the way I'm thrust into the bed with Noble inside me prompts a dizzy climax I can't hold back.  

For a moment, the noises refuse to leave my throat when I come. I just dig my forehead into the mattress, breath bursting my lungs until I just see sparking dots of white in the blackness of my mind.

There’s this distant awareness that he finishes with me, our heavy exhales mingling and eventually, we slowly shift apart from one another.

He leaves the press of a kiss between my shoulder blades and I catch myself humming in content appreciation before I start to turn over.

“Damn,” I breathe. It's almost all I can manage along with a quiet laugh.

His weight falls heavy onto his back beside me, deep inhales filling his chest. “You're the hottest damn piece of ass, I swear dude.”

A spent chuckle thuds in my chest and I arch my neck back for heart-calming breath. “Thanks, dude,” I tease.

“I mean it,” he grins, amused. “There’s no way you went to Harvard when you’re that good in bed.”

“Those two things are mutually exclusive?”

“I guess they’re not,” he muses. “But fuck, is there anything you’re bad at?”

I start to prop myself up and I glance at the bed. “Apparently I’m bad at holding off my orgasm when it comes to you. You made me come on the sheets and we have to sleep here, so--”

With a loud laugh, he tips his head to crack up at the ceiling.

“Shut up.” A smile pulls at my cheeks when I glance over at him. “What else am I supposed to do? You’ll see, just wait.”

“You’ve gotta call Nina and let her know what happened--”

Before he can even finish, I throw an elbow back at his chest and he turns over to fight me off. “Oh my god,” I let out a weary groan. “I’d rather take them to the laundromat myself.”

“I’ll be generous with the housekeeping tip.”

All I can do is muffle my amusement into the blanket before I manage to sit upright. “Jeez.”

“There’s a spare set in the closet.”

“Alright.” Running a hand over my hair, I meet his gaze for a beat and admire him where he lies across the bed on his back, one lazy arm propped behind his head. “I’m gonna jump in the shower in the other room.”

He nods. “After mine, I’ll make a late dinner.”

“I would argue that you don’t have to do that but… I mean, I don’t put out for free.”

He reaches out with his free hand to gently shove my shoulder. “I’ll happily make you dinner forever if that’s all it takes.”

And while the assurance is simple, I still feel this warmth flare and turn a flip in my chest. With a heavy breath, I get myself out of bed letting him know, “I’ll call that bet, my friend” and I head down the hall.


	15. Chapter 15

“Oh, my  _god_.” The sleepy acknowledgement murmurs from my lips before I stretch my head back with a breathy laugh. “Are you serious?” **  
**

It takes a minute for my surroundings to come into focus in my consciousness. The early morning sunlight casts the faintest glow in the otherwise dim bedroom. The feel of cool, soft sheets beneath me reminds me I'm still half asleep.

But that doesn't last long as I recognize the feeling of Noble’s hand stroking my morning arousal and I'm easily stirred awake.

I feel the heat of his mouth there and helplessly, my hips tilt into him. A gravelly moan thuds in my chest at the sensation. With my eyes still closed, I appreciate him there, my muscles completely slack and I fixate on nothing but the rush of dreamy warmth that swells in my core.  _My god._

He drags his tongue along my shaft as he barely pulls away to tell me, “I'm very serious. But I can stop if you've got places to go.”

A lazy smile stretches on my face and I reach down to rake fingers through his hair. “Don't.” I laugh softly. “Don't stop.”

“You slept naked so this is what happens,” he reasons. “Don't blame me.” Then he dips down on my cock again, a slick path to the back of his throat that prompts another noisy groan from me.

I arch back on the pillow, managing a hard swallow as I grasp his hair and mess it up even more than I know it is.

We both take our time, him with perfect slow strokes while I do my best to temper the rush of a building climax. I push away in my mind the reality that he leaves today. I only want to be aware of what we have in this exact moment.

I let my mind cloud. Desire and throbbing pleasure and things I typically never let settle there for long -- especially first thing in the morning -- take over.

I reach down, my hand coasts up the back of his neck, down between flexed shoulder blades, anywhere I can touch him. And his touch seems to have a similar pursuit, the stroke of his fist, his sneaky fingers that I'll never deny are my biggest fucking weakness now.

I hold out for as long as I can, but he's found a rhythm that makes my head spin and I let myself unravel into that gratifying payoff.

He renders me powerless. I don't even think I can move for a minute as I manage a deep breath that fills my chest. “Well good morning.”

Backing away, Noble sits up on his knees before he tips forward over top of me. There he catches himself on his hands with a chipper, impromptu push-up and drops a kiss on my shoulder. “Morning handsome.”

“You ruin me, you know that.”

One of his eyebrows flicks, intrigued. “Good. That's the plan.”

“No.” I groan the word and pull him down on top of me. “You can't just do that and leave town.”

He inhales deep into the side of my neck and lets out a little whimper of his own. “It won't be long before I'm flying your ass down to Miami. Don't be surprised.”

“I'll bring my Ray-Bans and not a lot else.”

He props himself up and peers down at me. “No,  _just_ your ass can come. I don't want like, your face and your personality and stuff--”

I knee him in the ribs before he can finish and he collapses against me, cracking up. “Get out of here, then,” I chuckle. “I'm all done with you.”

His laughter dwindles down to a weary moan before he leans in to bite my shoulder, then presses a few kisses across my chest. Pressing his forehead there for a quiet pause, he seems to concentrate on the thud of my heartbeat.

It feels heavier. There’s a sinking feeling in my gut whenever one of us is about to make that unavoidable departure. And this time, that familiar weight comes with jumpy nerves because what we are has been solidified -- with labels and acknowledgment of feelings.

On the one hand, being with him is so easy. It’s a connection and an attraction that I never tried for, it’s just there. In the past, when I’ve dated, there was a back-and-forth and then this sort of expectation of more that I just went with. Meanwhile, I was constantly in my head, never really feeling anything. I just figured it was a process and I was serving the role of a guy dating a girl, and assumed I was doing it right.

With other people, I’ve always had to tell myself to take the next step, but with Noble, it’s like I had to hold myself back from more with him since the beginning. And now that we’ve indulged it, I want to _just be_  with him without thinking about a damn thing.

But on the other hand, I know that what’s ahead of us is entirely more complicated. I tell myself it doesn’t have to be. He makes me happy. We’re good for each other. But the reality is there’s so many more layers to it, obstacles that are bound to trip us up once we step outside the hidden little world we choose to exist in.

Noble manages a deep inhale as we shift to separate and he sits up. “Are you hungry?”

I shrug, reaching up to idly scratch fingers through my hair. “I could have coffee.”

He nods, glancing away. We’re both feeling a little too uneasy, dreading the undeniable, to eat much. “How would you feel about going out? There’s an espresso bar a few blocks west.”

“Yeah, that works.”

It’s sort of a no-brainer agreement that later starts to stir up questions in my head as I finish getting ready. Going out to breakfast with Noble seems more indicative of some kind of romantic relationship than the sushi dinner we had together last month. I don’t know why. Something about the morning. Daylight and honesty without the armor of alcohol and tricky city neon and other distractions that night affords us.

Out in the living room, we gather up jackets and shoes. I’m in jeans and a deep green sweater while Noble dressed in jeans and an untucked button-down shirt is some pretty good competition against the way he looks out of clothes.

“What time's your flight?” I wonder as we make our way down in the quiet elevator.

He glances at his own watch then peers up as the floor numbers descend, a hard swallow clenching his throat.

_Fuck me, this sucks._

“At twelve.”

Reaching out, I scratch my fingers across his upper back and give him a reassuring squeeze there.

Softly, he sniffs a laugh and looks over at me. “I'm kinda bummed, Jay.”

“I know. Me too.”

Then he huffs a loud exhale as if he's attempting to shake off the mood. He clears his throat. “Alright, sorry. I won't be like that.”

I slant a half smile as we exit the elevator and head through the lobby. “Let's get you some coffee.”

“So are you going to your dad's for dinner later?”

My head bobs with a slight nod and I slip my hands in my pockets. “Yep.”

“No church though?”

Exhaling a scoff, I have to smile. “No. Not today.”

“Sinner.” He whispers the scolding tease, then bumps his elbow against mine.

I laugh to myself as I glance down at the sidewalk. “Nah. I don't feel like one. Which is good. Usually compulsive guilt is my downfall.”

“Maybe I'm a bad influence.”

“The only thing I feel guilty about is lying to my family.”

Noble inhales deeply as if to ponder it. He hasn't pressed me about when I planned on informing anyone I know about us. “Yeah? Would telling them the truth alleviate any of that?”

I blow a hard breath through puffed cheeks and consider it. God, the idea of confessing any of this at home makes my stomach drop. “How much of the truth?” I question.

He chuckles, that charming smile pulling at his cheeks. “There's a lot to unpack, huh? It's like, oh, and another thing…”

“Right.” I laugh. “Where do I start?”

“Do they like tiramisu? I can make it and send you with some and then any negative thoughts they might have would be crushed.”

“Okay, we could start with that.”

“Or get them really drunk and just kind of slide the news in there before you head home.”

“That's the thing.” I reach up to scratch the back of my head as we wait to cross the street. “I don't want it to be some big announcement. I'd rather just let them know as it comes. One on one, you know?”

“Well maybe just start with one person. Whoever might feel like the easiest to tell.”

I nod as we move forward up the block.

“Only if you want to,” he adds. “I'll be your shameful little secret for as long as you want. You know that. It's kinda hot anyway.”

I can’t help tip my head back, a heavy laugh in my chest. “You think I feel that way?”

“No,” he smiles as we approach the coffee shop. “But I mean, you know. It's not as simple as introducing some girl you met at the gym or whatever.”

“I've never been that simple anyway.” I shrug as Noble grasps the door handle there and pulls it open for us before I decide, “So they'll find a way to understand.”

* * *

 

By the time we return to the penthouse, Noble only has a little time to finish up his packing and get ready to go. I try to numb myself, to put on my blinders and accept the goodbye. I retrieve my backpack and drop it near the kitchen as I come closer to him.

“Come here, you.” I reach a hand along the back of his head and tip my mouth up to his. The kiss is brief, cut off before any of his heat can lure me in for more. “I'm gonna get out of here,” I murmur.

“Please go.” But he sneaks in one more kiss, strong hands gripping my sides. “Before I get sappy on you and say some shit I can't take back.”

I can feel his breath on my lips and mine flick with a smile at the reminder of him. The faint taste of espresso, the mint he had after, and the otherwise familiar, calming scent of him lingers there. Gently, I squeeze his hair between my fingers and run the tip of my nose across his cheek. “Sappy.” I echo the word back to him with a soft laugh. “Well now I want to know. I might like it.”

“Ugh.” All he can manage is a weary groan and he brushes another kiss along my bottom lip.

Tilting my chin up, I peer down at him. “Shit you can’t take back like _I love you_?” I let the words out but then  _holy fuck_ , a scorching ache pierces my chest when I do. “Like that kinda shit?”

“Dammit,” he mutters, tipping his head down to exhale his amusement toward the ground before he glances back up. “Yeah dude, I love you. And I tried really hard not to say it--”

“Don’t do that.”

“Okay.” He whispers his easy agreement.

“I love you too,” I tell him. Glancing up, I drag my fingers across his hair, taming some of the unruly waves that I find fucking adorable. “And I’d never take that back, alright?”

He nods and I see the way his jaw clenches with a hard swallow. And before the sentiment settles inside either one of us too long, just when I feel that sting in back of my throat, I manage a step back.

“You gotta get back,” I remind him.

“Go.”

I lean down and grasp my backpack and sling it onto my shoulder. Offering him the lazy drop of my hand, I let it land into his open palm in a hard clap and then I tug away. I meet his gaze once more, reassuring with a heated spark that’s always there, part infatuation, part promise, before I turn for the door and make my way out.


	16. Chapter 16

“Hey man, you wanna grab a couple drinks?” I push closed my locker and turn to Vinny where he sits on the bench tying the laces of his sneakers.

“Definitely,” he mutters. “After that tour, more like a couple pitchers.”

Exhaling a laugh, I stretch my arms into my leather jacket. Even my muscles feel done for the day, beat from an exhausting week on patrol. “Sounds good. I'll see you out there.”

It's rare that Vinny and I spend time together outside of work. When he first transferred to the 12th precinct last year, we didn't exactly see eye to eye when it came to how we did things on the job. But considering the rough Harlem sector he used to patrol, I chalk it up to different styles and we've come to appreciate the dynamic over the last several months.

But still, the job is one of the few things we have in common. So I'm not quite sure why I feel compelled to let Vinny in on the news of my relationship with Noble. It's not that I'm putting off telling my family. It's just something about Vinny, cool-headed and laid back but still a strong partner, makes me wish he knew.

Hanging back against the hallway of the precinct, I swipe through my phone while I wait. I send off a text to Noble:  _Happy hour. Talk to you tonight_  just before Vinny rounds the corner.

“Let's hit it, Reagan.”

We head out the door and make our way down the block. “Let’s skip Murphy’s, though,” I tell him.

“Not feeling it?”

I shrug, sinking my hands into the pockets of my jacket and wait at the crosswalk. “Even when you’re off duty over there, it’s like… people still wanna talk shop, you know?”

“Yeah, alright,” he agrees. “There’s a place over on Ninth we can shoot some pool.”

It’s an easy agreement and we head west, our pace picking up with the brisk November wind that cuts through the side street.

It isn’t long before we get to the tucked away tavern. With a subtle scan, I check that I don’t see anyone I know while I wait at the bar to start a tab.

At the back of the pub, there’s a pool table, dimly lit in the glow of green neon and lucky for us, unoccupied. The bartender meets us there to set a pitcher of amber lager and two pint glasses on the nearest table.

“Anything else I can get you guys?” She wonders as she tips the last glass against the pitcher and pours.

“We're good, Allie,” Vinny assures her as he reaches into the table for the rack and starts to collect the balls into it. “But I want you to check back in a minute because my boy Jamie over here is about to lose and I think it's gonna be hard on him so he might-- y'know, need a little support.”

With a shake of her head, she smiles. “Oh really?”

“And then I'll need a high five,” he adds, proudly.

I have to scoff as I peer up to choose my pool cue.

She hums, as if to humor him but manages to giggle anyway. “I'll see what I can do.”

Then she heads back to the bar and I make sure Vinny catches me rolling my eyes as I meet him at the table.

“It never stops, huh?” I tease him, but by now I’m used to his persistent flirting with any halfway attractive woman he comes in contact with.

“What, you think I can turn it off and on? Just accept me for who I am, Reagan.” Back and forth, he slides the balls across the green felt and carefully lifts the rack. “One day, you'll reap the rewards of my wingman efforts. Wanna break?”

I cough out, amused, and scoop up the cue ball. “Sure.” Positioning myself at the end of the table, I line up my first shot. “Speaking of that--” I start just before swiftly knocking the end of my pool cue against the ball which clacks hard into the triangle and sends all the other balls scattering. Two solids find a pocket and I make my way around to ponder another shot. “I gotta give you a heads up in the off-chance my brother decides to question you. But if he ever asks, you and I went to Miami for a weekend.”

Vinny tilts his head while he takes a drink. He swallows hard and arches an eyebrow at me. “We did?”

“I told him we did.”

He chuckles, obviously amused that I would ever attempt to pull one over on my family and include him in the lie. “What’s the story there?”

I glance over at him across the table, pressing my lips together in hesitation.  _Fuck, it’s all gonna come out, I know it._

“Oh shit, tell me.” His dark eyes light up once he realizes whatever the story involves, it’s anything but innocent. “What'd you do in Miami?”

“My family knew I went, but they got all suspicious about why, so I just told them I went with you to visit some friends.”

“So who were you really with?”

All I can manage is a deep inhale as I lean over to take another shot.

“Come on, Reagan.” He grins, excited the more I resist confessing. “You roped me in on it, so I gotta know. What, is she from our house or something?”

“No--”

“Is she married?”

“No.”

“Does she work for IA?”

“No, not--”

“Yo, is she in high school?”

“No! Vin--” And then I sputter a surprised laugh and rub a hand across my eyes. I let out a weary groan and shake my head. “It’s not like that.”

“Alright, so what’s with the cover-up?”

I step back from the table and reach for my pint glass. “He--” I begin, glancing at him over the rim. “--isn’t any of those things.” Then I tilt the beer to my lips and down a hard gulp.

It takes him a second. An averted glance, the slight twitch of one eyebrow, before he gradually lifts his chin in realization. Then he tips it down and his brow creases when he looks at me to confirm, “Oh, like that?”

I exhale a breathy laugh. “Yeah, like that.”

He nods, taking a moment for a sip of his beer too, then presses his lips together. “Alright, alright--” he repeats, still nodding, then he looks at me. “I didn’t know.”

A blameless shrug lifts my shoulders. “How would you know?”

His head cocks as if to recall some sort of indicator, but he just mirrors my shrug.

I manage a nervous glance away and chew on my lip muttering, “So…now you know.”

“A good guy?”

The simple question surprises me, seeming to push away some of the weight sinking through my chest. “Yeah. Yeah, for sure.”

“Nice, Reagan,” he comes closer and smacks the back of his hand against my shoulder, seeming to deflate a little in relief. “You had me thinking you took a hostage across state lines or something.”

“No,” I chuckle.

“So I take it your family doesn’t know.”

“No one really knows,” I tell him, then gesture to the pool table. “You’re up.”

“No one?”

“Not really, no.” I hang back in the pub chair with my beer while Vinny takes his shot.

“Wait.” He straightens up to watch the striped eleven sink into the side pocket. “No one knows about him, or no one knows… about you?”

My brows pull together as I consider it. “Both, I guess.”

“Oh, damn.”

I laugh. “Yeah, it's complicated.”

“Well hey.” He holds up his hands in affirmation, tipping out the pool cue. “I got your back brother, you know that. I'm just glad you could tell me. I'll corroborate the Miami story if it comes to that.”

I can't help but smile as I grasp my beer and glance down. “I appreciate it.”

Backing up, her turns and leans in for another turn. “So what’s his deal? Do I know him?”

“No, he lives in Florida.”

“How’d you meet him?” He misses his shot and makes his way over for his beer.

Inhaling deep, I sit back in my chair. “That's the complicated part.”

“I'm all in now, Reagan. Tell me.”

I glance up, across the bar just to ensure no one else is within earshot. Then I pass a hand across nervous lips and scratch my jawline. “Last year when I was working UC. But I can't tell you the whole story.”

Vinny’s eyebrows jump and he comes closer to the table. “Wait, what?”

Stepping down off my chair, I turn for my pool cue that's against the wall. “It's my turn.”

“Bro.” He groans. He stops me before I head to the pool table and murmurs, “You telling me he's in WitSec?”

“I didn't say that.”

“Yeah but I know the gist of that undercover you did. You met him here but he lives in Miami now? Come on.”

“Alright yes, he's in WitSec,” I offer a hushed confirmation before I turn away for my shot. “That's why I can't say anything.”

“Oh shit.” He tries to contain some sort of noisy reaction as he mutters into his fist. “Reagan!”

I look back at him and spread my hands before I lean over the ledge of the table. 

“I think I'm gonna order a couple shots,” he announces.

* * *

 

It's a fairly easy win in the game against Vinny. He tries to blame it on being distracted with too many questions but really he's just all talk when it comes to his pool technique.

He makes good on two shots of Johnny Walker and we retire to the pub table with pitcher number two.

“Well it sounds to me like you really like him,” he reasons.

“Of course I do.”

“I'm just saying. If this were nothing but a hook-up you wouldn't be telling me.”

I swallow another gulp from my beer and consider it. “I guess so.”

“Which is why I'm questioning what you're gonna do, man.”

“I don't know what to do,” I concede.

“Why don't you talk to your sister?”

With an absent nod, I pause a beat. “I've thought about it.”

“Would it be bad news if he left the program?”

“I think there will always be a threat. His guys are locked up but… Those ties run deep, you know? There's always someone out there who would try to be some kinda a hero.”

He nods and sniffs a soft laugh. “You wanna move to Miami then?”

I smile. “No.”

“So you do long distance for a while,” he decides and I appreciate the content, albeit temporary, resolution.

“Yeah. So far, so good.”

“Would I like him?” Vinny wonders.

“I think you'd like him.”

“I wanna know about him. What's his name? What's his deal?”

I let a smirk sit on my face a minute while I think about how much to reveal to my partner. “His name's Nick.”

“Alright.” He nods, knowing that's not his real name but he has to go with it. “Does Nick know your dad's the PC?”

I clear my throat and nod. “He knows pretty much everything.”

“Man, I'm not gonna lie. This is…” And then he trails off while he considers it.

“It's fucking… stupid.”

A rumbling laugh sputters in our throats before the both of us crack up.

Vinny shakes his head. “No, he must be some guy, that's all.”

I down what's left in my pint glass and breathe out hard. “He must be,” I muse.

“I gotta meet the guy who can make Jamie Reagan this stupid.”

Nodding in acceptance of that, my laugh tapers off. “Maybe you will.”

He reaches over and slaps a hand on the side of my arm.

I set my glass down with a thud on the table and stretch back my shoulders. “See now you don't have the competition anymore when you're trying to get girl's numbers on patrol but they only want to talk to me.”

“You can get the fuck out.” He points his glass at me, a sideways smile curving on his cheek. “Ain't no competition. I don't care if you're off the market or not.”

“We'll see what Allie has to say about that.” I slide off my chair and start to make my way over to the bar.

“No, see I'm playing the long game with Allie,” he calls out.

Arching a skeptical brow back at him, I give him a phony nod as if I believe him. “Let me know how that goes, partner.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might as well light this candle up on tumblr dot com. Prepare yourselves for some serious trash. Adult content warning. I don’t need to like, warn people about butt activities anymore right? I mean... 
> 
> Thanks for taking this ride with me this year! I hope the holidays are good to you, bringing joy and happy times. Kick back with a Joble update. Enjoy!

“The universe is scheming to torture me.”

I smirk at Noble’s complaint through the phone as I sink back against my couch cushions. “Mm yeah? That’s my job.”

“There’s a slight adjustment to the plans.”

“Guess how shocked I am.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m difficult,” he concedes. “The job we were supposed to finish today, we didn’t finish. So I have to go in to work in the morning.”

A loud groan resounds in my chest and I reach for the remote control with my free hand to turn down the volume on the news channel. “You suck, Nick.”

“It should only take a few hours and I’ll be free by the afternoon.”

“Well that’s not bad.”

“I was thinking instead of me picking you up at the airport, you could take a cab to my place,” he suggests. “I’ll leave you a key and you can just wait for me here.”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“And I’ll make it up to you however you want.”

“However I want?” I contemplate the possibilities.

“Mm-hm.”

“I want a lot of things this weekend.”

“God, me too,” he sighs. “The latest picture you sent me the other day has been useful.”

With a soft laugh, I run a hand up my face and tip my head back. What had started as an impulsive, tipsy decision -- after the happy hour I had with Vinny to send Noble a late night picture in bed of my hand grasping my dick -- had escalated into a series of back and forth photos between the two of us over the last several weeks. Just a few. Some more teasing than others.

He adds, “But it only sustains a man so long.”

“Well… tomorrow, I can do a lot better than a picture.”

We hadn't been able to wait long after Noble left New York to schedule another visit.  _Tell me the first weekend you're free and I'm getting you down here_ , he had insisted. And I shamelessly didn't refuse him.

Whatever phase we're in right now in this relationship has me uncharacteristically gratified, content, bordering on chipper. It's ridiculous. Even my sergeant and some of the other officers at the 12th noticed. But I was happy to keep the reason to myself for now, and aside from Vinny, nobody else knows.

***

It's a quick getaway to Miami with a late morning flight out of LaGuardia. I tell myself I can pull off not letting my family know about this trip considering I'm due back to New York in time for Sunday dinner. Plus two trips to Miami in the span of two months would surely set off a relentless inquisition from everyone at that table.

In a cab, I relay Noble's address to the driver and settle back to check my phone. I open up my messages and see where our last exchange left off, earlier in the day with a couple of easy  _good morning_  texts where he wished me a safe flight. I let him know I’ve landed and I’m on my way to his place, figuring he won’t see it until he takes a break at work.

Then I slip sunglasses onto my face and tip my head back to observe the view from my window.

***

“You there?”

“I’m here.” I tell him, pacing his living room. “Your neighbors and their kids wandered over to use the pool, though. So I told them that was cool and we could all hang out--”

“What?” He scoffs in a panic through the phone.

I can’t help my lazy chuckle as I slide one of his paperbacks into place on his bookshelf, then tip out another one to glance at the cover. “I’m just kidding.”

“Why would you joke with me? I’m way too wound up for that shit.”

“Are you almost here?”

“In like, ten minutes,” he answers. “And there’d better not be anyone else over there because I have loud, filthy plans for you and only you, man.”

I smirk. “Aww.”

“That was romantic, wasn’t it?”

“It was. I’m touched,” I muse. “Oh hey. I found all your spanking porn--”

“Shut up,” he coughs out a laugh and the deep throaty sound of it makes me smile, the memory flaring in my chest. “You wish.”

“Just get here.”

“Ugh,” he groans. “Fine. I love you.”

“I love you.” And then I end the call, amused as I decide on one of his books and turn to sink back to the couch with it.

A few quiet minutes pass before I hear the closing of his car door, then the sound of his keys. It makes my heart hot just hearing it and I don’t miss the unexpected swoop of my stomach in anticipation of him.

“Hey, hey!” He announces. “I told you it wouldn’t take long.”

Sitting up, I glance toward his entryway and watch him approach the kitchen, straight from work looking every bit dirty and spent and used as the clichés I'd imagined.  “Oh damn, look at you.”

He exhales a long breath and drops his keys into a dish on the counter. “I know. Don’t judge me until after I’ve taken a shower.”

“Too bad,” I tell him. I toss the book aside and get up to meet him. I don’t even hide the obvious fall of my gaze as I assess him in jeans and a muddy white t-shirt. His skin, grimy with remnants of dirt along his forearms, glows from sun and sweat and I’ve never seen him look quite like this but  _damn_.

He groans aloud, tipping his head back as he stretches. “God. Come here,” he sighs as I approach. “You’re like the best thing I’ve seen in weeks.”

I reach out and grasp him around the shoulders as he pulls me in to him. I rock my weight against him and feel the breath leaving his back as his muscles contract and arch beneath my touch.

“Do I smell good?” He wonders, burying his face into the side of my neck.

I return the affection, breathing him in at the collar of his t-shirt before I press a kiss on the underside of his jaw. “No,” I laugh. “You're nasty.”

That heavy chuckle echoes in my ear. “That's why I said let me shower.”

“But I'm into it.” I close my teeth on the edge of the shirt, tugging gently at the neck.

A little grunt of appreciation escapes him. “Then get in with me, you sick fuck.”

I don't argue and we manage to get ourselves to the shower just off his room, the trail of our clothes left behind. Surrounded by large, steamy glass and tile walls, his shower certainly outdoes mine back home.

Glancing down, he lets the hot water rush down the back of his neck. I take my time to watch -- and occasionally help -- as sudsy paths skim his chest where he drags a washcloth. They linger, teasing the slick lines of his abdomen until the spray of the shower washes them away.

“Wait--” Moving in behind him, I dip my head back into the water, sliding wet hands up my face. “Can you… go back outside and pretend like you got soaked by the sprinklers and you had to take your shirt off and knock and ask if you can borrow a towel --”

Playfully, he turns and shoves me away but chases me just as fast, his hands grasping for my waist. With impatient movements, but still this dreamy vibe between us because I've missed him so damn much, I skate my palms down his chest.

“You'll be like--” He starts, reaching up to rake fingertips back through my hair. “ _Uh… Sure but my wife won't be too happy if she comes home and the floor is all wet_.”

My head falls back as I crack up and Noble follows against me.

He goes on, “And I'm all--  _Something tells me your wife wouldn't be happy about this either_. And then we like, fuck on the kitchen table or something.”

My face falls against his neck as my amusement tapers off. “How much porn have you been watching?”

“You started it with the sprinkler scenario.”

“Uh-huh.” I just manage a throaty hum before I latch one hand on the back of his head and capture his lips with my own. I lean into him, hooking my other arm around his neck as his hands grasp my sides.

He tugs my bottom lip with his teeth, just enough to murmur along the ridge of my jaw, “I missed you so goddamn much.”

My heavy chest forces a noisy exhale into the air above his head. Then his slippery hand drops to my balls, paying them attention that makes my legs weak and I let out another loud sigh. “I missed you too. You’ve gotta stop leaving.” I mumble the words before my mouth falls hard on his.

The way he tastes never fails to provoke me, rousing these secret corners of my pulse. My breath comes out harder and my heartbeat suddenly thuds from the hot stroke of his tongue across mine.

His hand skates underneath me, then all the way up in a fist along my stiff shaft. I love the way his hands just take control, all over me. Then his fingers slip down the sensitive crevice at my taint and I almost start to ride them, my hips rocking against his I want it so bad.

He groans when I do, lifting his chin to peer down at me with this heavy gaze that’s fucking sexy, the way his wet lips part while he watches me.

“Is this what you missed?” He wonders, just as the tip of his finger pushes slick between my cheeks, right at the rim of my ass.

A breathy laugh escapes me as I arch my head back. Sliding my grip up the path of his triceps, I tell him, “I missed everything.” Then I lift a coy eyebrow and flick my gaze to his wandering hand.  “Is that what  _you_ missed?”

“What, this ass? Fuck yeah I did.” He raises a free hand to the edge of my jaw and kisses me, strong and soft but with this needy curl of his fingers as they trail to the back of my head. With a couple steps, he traps me against the wall.

Impatiently, my hand wraps around his cock right at my hip. But he lets out a broken breath and shakes his head as he adjusts. “No, just you right now,” he rasps. And then he tugs at the back of my thigh until I lift it to plant one foot on the built-in ledge along one wall of his shower.

He dives in closer, hands back at work, one slipping down underneath my bent leg, coasting just between my asscheeks once again until I feel the slow circling of his fingertip at my opening.

“ _Ahh, god_.” I push my head back against the wet tile and my eyes close as I mumble a content but tortured moan. It just vibrates there in my chest.

Then his other hand strokes my dick, idly grazing a loose fist there. He leans in and kisses me again and I muffle a gravelly sigh against his mouth. Holding him to me, digging fingers into his wet hair, I rock against the teasing rhythm of both of his hands.

Just when I want more of that slippery middle finger, he pulls off my mouth and mutters, “Turn around.”

Dazed, my eyelids heavy, my bottom lip stung, I hesitate a moment. Then I glance at the wall behind me and offer Noble a smirk. “Something back there you want?”

He laughs, “Yeah and it's mine” before pulling on my arm and I make no effort to resist him.

I dig my teeth into my bottom lip and my head tips back with my amusement as I turn away from him.

“But it's been a while,” he murmurs the words along the back of my neck. “So if you've forgotten--”

I glance over my shoulder. “Forgotten who my ass belongs to?”

He breathes a low chuckle at the curve of my shoulder. “You better not have.”

“I don’t know. Remind me.” Reaching back, I close my fist around his thick shaft, urging him into me.

“Oh-ho, you act like I’m just gonna pound your ass because it’s been so long and that’s all I want, huh?”

Restless, I press my lips together and gaze up the rainy wall in front of me. “I didn’t say that.”

Then I feel his lips at my shoulderblade while he grips hard at one asscheek. “So impatient.”

I let out a loud groan and slide my palms up the wall in front of me before I rest my forehead there. “Don’t be mean.”

His hand coasts down my back, along my sides and I feel another kiss there, lower. Then again trailing the path of my spine. “Is this mean?”

“Tease,” I mutter the accusation against the back of my hand.

Then he grasps my hips and tugs them back. Pushing my hands against the wall to hold myself up, I look down to see he’s behind me on his knees.

His palm clenches the curve of my ass and I feel his fingertips squeeze. He massages it around until his other hand joins in, eventually skimming the crease along the center and his thumbs part me.

Even though I’m completely anticipating it, I still suck in a surprised hiss of air when his tongue grazes me. I call out, a loud swear as I close my eyes and push my head against the backs of my hands.

He only teases for a moment before he pulls me back against him even more, holds tight to my ass and buries his mouth deep.

I won’t be able to stand up, he’s got me shaking already. The light behind my eyes is swirling. Fuck,  _fuck_ , he’s so good it’s insane. The steady, unhurried, but still ravenous devotion from his tongue is enough to nearly make me lose it. And the way he muffles these growling moans there is so hot I’m gonna fucking kill him.

I feel him ease back and then I exhale a ragged, desperate breath when he just barely circles a fingertip right there at the rim of my ass.

“Oh my god,  _fuck_ ,” I cough out, pushing back against him. I want him inside me so bad, I want him to fuck me with those fingers, but he doesn’t. He just traces the most cruel path, the faintest tight little stroke.

He groans again with this rapt fascination, like he’s so appreciative and I can’t even hate him like I want to.

I just let another moan rattle in my throat and push my head against my hands.

“You still need reminding?” He speaks up behind me.

Another hard exhale leaves me. “What, who owns my ass? It’s you.”

He laughs, loud from his chest and I can’t help but smile at the sound.

“God damn,” I add, weary as I hang my head. I could easily flip around and put an end to the tease. Pull him onto that ledge and tell him to cut it the fuck out and ride him until he fills me the way I need him to. I don’t know, blame it on my typical disciplined resolve, but I won’t challenge him. I’ll take it as long as I can because a part of me loves the painfully delayed gratification.

He hums another approving note as he moves back in and flicks another few wet strokes of his tongue before he tells me, “I can’t wait to fuck you.”

I have to scoff as I turn to look back at him. “It sure seems like you can.”

“I want to make you come here first,” he tells me.

A heavy breath pounding my chest, I reach back for him with my other hand. I grasp his hair, pulling him closer.  _Fuck, oh my god_. I could ride his face I'm so needy with the way I arch against him.

I swallow hard and turn my head once again to rest against the wall. I grasp my own dick, it’s practically throbbing, and tilt my hips back.

I feel him ease up on his knees and he groans as he moves deeper spreading my cheeks and just fucking devouring me.

Letting go of his hair, I steady myself against the wall, jerking my cock until I succumb to an annihilating orgasm. It overtakes me in wrecking waves that just keep crashing into me. I flinch with another just as soon as I think they’ve left.

Finally I find the air I need and I prop my forearm on the wall to hang my head, letting the spray of the hot shower ease my pounding heart.

Something tells me this trip is going to be anything but a quiet twenty-four hours...


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the rating of this story to E because the smut has gotten out of hand. ;) Hope that's okay.

“I don’t think we’d ever both been in that shower,” I note, sliding onto the barstool at Noble’s kitchen counter. “I might have to reconsider my loyalty to New York with its small-ass showers. That city is stupid.”

He laughs, glancing over at me with this hopeful flicker in his hazel eyes, then checks on the chicken that sits grilling in a pan on the stove.

“Can I help?” I wonder.

“I could use you on prep,” he decides, motioning with his head for me to come back and join him. “Come slice these apples.”

“I thought about having lunch ready for you when you got home from work,” I tell him while he sets out a cutting board and a knife for me. “But. I figured there were other... priorities.”

“Um yeah. I wouldn’t have even pretended to be appreciative.”

“It was the thought that counts.” I muse as I get started. “Like this?”

“Yeah.” He passes by and lightly pinches fingers at my waist, directing, “Thin. For a salad.” Then takes the apple slice I’m offering and bites down on it.

“Yes, Chef.”

Noble returns to the stovetop and turns the chicken on his grill pan before he makes his way to the refrigerator. “So you’d move to Miami for the shower space?”

I smirk. “Something like that.”

“You’re a damn heartbreaker. Don’t even tempt me with these ideas.”

“I’d move here for a few reasons and you know it.”

“Let's get back in bed. I can do all kinds of convincing.”

I have to smile as I glance down to appreciate the memory of that reunion we just had in his shower that continued with a fast fuck in his bed once we got out. I could hardly blame him. It had been a while.

“I know you can,” I chuckle. “After we eat, though. I'm hungry.”

If only it were that easy. If only Noble could lure me away from New York with promises of colorful meals and fulfilling orgasms. I'd let him try, though. With him, I let myself indulge those kind of surface attributes of a relationship. When’s the last time I actually did?

I know it’s more, though. What we’ve become is deeper than anything I’ve ever felt. It seems ridiculous to think that way about someone almost no one knows.

Not long after the chicken is grilled and sliced, Noble adds it to the spinach salad that he’s tossed up with apples, walnuts, and goat cheese, splitting it between two over-sized bowls for us.

“In an ideal world…” I start, moving around him for glasses of water and forks to set out. “Where would you be?”

He doesn’t even glance up or pause for thought when he pulls out his stool and answers. “In New York. With you.”

Slowly, I slide the silverware drawer shut with my hip while I look at him. “Really?”

“You said ideal.”

A smile nudges the corner of my lips and I cross over to my seat. “With a restaurant?”

“Maybe. Maybe cooking for someone else.”

“Apartment in the city or outer borough?”

He tilts his head to consider it as he picks up his fork. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“Long term? Maybe Queens.”

My brow curves upward. “Long term?”

“I mean--” His shoulders lift defensively while he chews. “I’d want a place to park my car. I’m not renting a space in the city.”

I nod at his reasoning, amused, and wonder what else in the _long term_  he’s been pondering. “Queens, huh?” I murmur. “No Tribeca?”

“I could do that too. I’d better get my ass some Michelin stars if I want to afford that neighborhood, though.”

“Ideal world.”

“Right.”

“I’ll give your ass Michelin stars.”

Glancing over with a cute scrunch of his cheek, he takes a sip from his water and bumps his knee against mine. “How many?”

“The most.” I shrug. “Exceptional ass. Five stars.”

He laughs, setting down his glass as he shakes his head. “Three is the most. But I appreciate the honor.”

“Of course.”

“Gotta have a big shower,” he lists. “For… quality time with you.”

“Oh, I’m invited?”

“Yeah, you can come over and hang out.” He smirks, cutting me a playful side glance.

I return the look, holding back words to chew thoughtfully instead. I wonder in this long term concept, what kind of relationship the two of us have, if one at all. But with all of this in the hypothetical, it doesn’t really make sense to get specific. 

“What else?” I ask.

Inhaling a deep breath, he thinks. “Bianca would be there. Somewhere at a… reasonable distance. Maybe in Jersey or something.”

I laugh softly. “Okay.”

“And that’s it.”

I let a quiet moment sit there while we eat and I contemplate the simple vision. “A few years ago, did you ever think you’d say in an ideal world, you’d live in Queens?”

He laughs into his glass of water, shaking his head as he manages to down another gulp. “Hey, I feel like I need a yard now. At least something. And Brooklyn’s not really an option.”

“My brother in Staten Island has a yard. That’s an option--”

“Oh god, kill me,” he mutters, scoffing at the notion. “I don’t want a parking spot that bad.”

* * *

Later after lunch, we make our way to the living room and spend the afternoon lazy, stretched across the couch together. Limbs draped over one another’s, I’m content listening to the rhythmic lull of the breath filling his chest and appreciating the idle tracing of his fingers in my hair.

“So about tonight--” I speak up.

He hums softly, probably almost asleep. “Are you mad?” He murmurs, the inhales deeply as he shifts beside me. “Listen, I don’t even want to go. We can make up an excuse.”

“No, I mean you had already agreed to it when I picked the weekend,” I tell him. “I don’t mind either way.”

In our desperate planning to get me to Miami for a weekend, I had let Noble know about the first Saturday I was free. At the time, he told me about existing plans to go out with a group of guys for a bachelor party. It’s supposedly low-key, just a night of bar hopping with guys from work and friends of friends. We had both just kind of agreed,  _yeah whatever_  that I’d tag along for a portion of the night, have a few drinks and we’d slip out. With the holidays approaching, my other weekends for the month were booked.

“I guess it could be fun,” he muses.

“As far as you and me…”

He questions me with a sleepy noise in his chest, his fingertips drawing a line down my shoulder.

“We’re not together, or we  _are_ together, or--?”

“Make no mistake, you’re mine, dude.”

I smirk against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. “Okay, but when it comes to this group of people we’re going out with.”

“I haven’t told them.”

My head settles comfortably against his chest. “That’s alright.”

“I can,” he offers. “I don’t care. We can make out on the pool table or whatever and then I don’t have to worry about remembering some _just friends_  act with you after I’ve had a few cocktails.”

“Oh, no no,” I tease as I push my hand under the edge of his t-shirt, my palm coasting across his stomach. “I’d actually like to see you try to keep up that act, Nick.”

“Oh-ho, you're so full of yourself,” he laughs. “You think I'm the only one who gets handsy.”

“I didn't say that.” And easily I shift to slide on top of him. “But none of these people know me. I can be whoever I want.”

Settling into the couch beneath my weight, a little breathy grunt rattles in his throat. “Yeah? Who're you gonna be tonight?” His hands trail my back, down to my hips where he tugs me against him.

My knee bends, inching up by his side when I tilt down, urging a spark of friction between our bodies. “I'll be your friend.”

“Mm-hm. Okay, friend.”

Leaning down, I touch my lips to the ridge of his jaw. My tongue just barely teases the hard angle there below his ear. “Will you be  _my_ friend?” I wonder.

“Ugh, fuck,” he sighs. “You're such a jerk.”

I can't help my satisfied smile against his skin. “Well when we get back home, I'll be whatever you want,” I remind him, dragging a hand up his head. I dig my fingers there at his mess of brown hair and rock against his growing hard-on once more.

He groans softly and slides his grip down the back of my gym shorts, beneath the waist and grabs a handful of my ass. “You know what I want. You gonna make me ask for it?”

I nod, brushing parted lips across his cheek before I close my teeth on the edge of his bottom lip. “Oh yeah, you're definitely gonna ask for it.”

“Why do we have to wait ‘til we get back home?”

A content rumble of pleasure sounds in my chest when he pulls me into him. My stiff cock strokes his inner thigh when I grind my hips on top of him.

With both hands in my shorts, he grips my asscheeks, massaging, parting them just enough to tease me. But _fuck no_  I won't let him take over.

“Mm,” I exhale a quiet moan. “Because you're not ready.”

His throaty, taunting laugh vibrates beneath me. “I've been ready. You know this.”

A smile curves on my lips as they touch his. More than once in our time apart, Noble and I had talked about  _switching up_  our positions. He'd been curious.   _So it's that good huh?_  He wondered over one of our text exchanges.  _The way it feels_ , I told him. _To come while you're inside me is so fucking good, I can't even describe it._  Needless to say, he's been a little crazed about it since.

“We'll see how ready you are tonight.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, almost a complaint as he arches his head back.

I don't bother saying anything else while I press into him stretching up before my mouth falls hard on his. I reach down for his shorts, grasping the waist and pushing them lower.

Then I sit up, rushed breath escalating and my movements quicken as I finish pulling off his shorts, his boxer briefs. I lean over him again and he helps me drag his shirt off, tossing it to the floor beside the couch before he gets my t-shirt off too.

My hand wraps around him, stroking for a moment. I ease back to look at him, swallowing hard at the rigid temptation of his cock, the solid plane of his stomach. The lines there broaden to a firm chest, his skin perpetually kissed by the sun and good Mediterranean genes.  _Goddamn_ he looks good naked, like absolute fucking sin and I remind myself to tell him more often.

“You think I won't beg for it?” He manages, exhaling hard with a laugh as he tips his head back. “Because I will. You know I'm shameless.”

“Beg? No, I wouldn't do that to you.”

“I think you would.”

“Beg for what?”

“For you to fuck me.”

“Mm.” I consider it with a hum of satisfaction.  “Like you'd say please and everything?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Hm.”

“Jamie.”

Another intrigued moan sneaks out of me at that.  “Maybe I will make you beg.”

“Ugh.”

“Later tonight.”

He groans again in frustration and I have to laugh, my hand continuing its idle path up his shaft, beneath his balls. “Some friend you are,” he accuses.

Amused, I slide my hand away, down his leg that's closest to the back of the couch and push up his knee a little. There, I lean into him, urging his knee out until he puts his leg on top of the back couch cushions.

“I'll be a very good friend, I promise,” I murmur as I settle closer between his legs. Glancing up, I drag my tongue along my palm before I close a slick fist around his dick.

His neck arches back, showing off the thick path of his throat as he exhales hard toward the ceiling. Reaching up, he rests his hands in his own hair as he urges himself into my stroke.

Before I can get him too caught up in a rhythm, I release him and inch back a little more. My mouth wet, I suck the length of my index finger before trailing it slow along the center path where it slips between the cheeks of his ass.

My other hand slides beneath his hip and I pull him closer and my fingertip pushes further to gently circle the sensitive rim there.

He flinches, his whole body jumping at the contact. This isn't the first time I've taken my time exploring there but I can tell he's needy as hell for what's to come and every move from me has him restless.

His hands move from his head to the arm of the couch where he reaches overhead and holds on.

Slowly I sink my finger inside, just a little. I practically crush my lips together in restraint, it's so fucking tempting. I put on an act like I'm so in control of him right now but it takes some serious self-discipline not to grasp my own shaft to pull it from my shorts and bury it inside him.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, coughing out a desperate sigh that's almost a laugh as he tilts into me. Pushing his head back against the arm of the couch, he approves with this gravelly, murmured chant of  _yes yes yes_.

He feels so good, my touch delves deeper until eventually, the whole length of my finger fills him.

I come down on top of him, letting my lips fall on his just as he buries an unguarded cry into the heat of my mouth. He kisses me hard but we both pull apart in breathy concentration.

“Do you think you'll want more than this?” I ask him, just barely curving my finger. Balancing on my knees, I reach down for his cock and it twitches in my grip.

A noisy exhale escapes his open mouth and he nods.

It's almost a growl that rumbles in my chest as I watch him. I jerk him a little harder, more determined, and I'm so mesmerized studying the way his climax builds in his breaths, he can't catch it, he just calls out and sinks into the sofa cushions, swearing overhead as his orgasm consumes him.

I ease my stroke, my fist guiding the length of him as he comes hot across his stomach, some on his chest, his whole core contracting with each sharp quake that sneaks up on him.

“Oh my god,” he sighs. “Fuuuuuck.”

Pulling out of him, I slip both hands beneath his hips and lean into him. “Damn,” I muse, offering him a smirk -- the same way he's done to me I don't know how many times as I’ve laid there beneath him, spent and breathlessly unwound.

“Good thing we agreed we're just friends,” I tease him. I move closer and dip my head before I touch a kiss to his stomach. “Otherwise we'd get ourselves in all kinds of trouble tonight.” Then with a subtle stroke of my tongue, I taste the salty trail collected on his skin.

“Holy _fff--_ ” Noble coughs in disbelief and his head drops back. But he quickly lifts up once more to watch me, his breath heavy in his chest. “You better watch it, friend.”

Provoking him, I hum an appreciative little moan and taste him some more, working my way across the path that he left.

“You're the best,” he praises, “--nastiest friend I've ever had.”

I laugh there against him and push myself the rest of the way up until I collapse on top, pushing a kiss into the side of his neck, then assure him, “I feel the same way about you.”


	19. Chapter 19

“It’s  _Terminator_!”

“It's  _Terminator 2_ ,” Noble mutters, glancing overhead at the oversized television screen in the corner of the bar.

“No, dude.” His friend Andrew -- the groom-to-be in this group -- insists across the pub table from us. The loud rendition of the Beastie Boys’  _Hey Ladies_  plays over the one minute window of time each trivia team in the bar has to answer the question:  _What was the first Arnold Schwarzenegger movie to win four Academy Awards?_  “ _Terminator 2_?” Andrew disputes. “Fuck no. It's never a sequel.”

“ _Terminator 2_  is like, the known superior Terminator,” Noble argues.

“You guys,” Sebastian cuts in, another guy in our group. “It's  _Jingle All The Way_.”

“It's  _Kindergarten Cop_!”

“Oh my god,” Noble complains, shaking his head at me as I can't help but laugh at the idiotic suggestions from his friends. “Fucking write something.”

“It's kind of hard to top the original though,” I offer.

“Exactly,” Andrew points his pen at me. “See? He's a lawyer, he knows.”

“But that's not the question,” I reason. “The question’s about awards, not which one you feel is a classic.”

Noble's friend glances down to start scribbling. “You guys are clowns. It's  _Terminator_.” Then he stands up and takes his slip of paper with the answer up to the deejay who stands in front of the TVs.

Amused, I reach for my beer and shake my head. When Noble -- who is strictly Nick tonight -- told me we were bound for a bachelor party, sitting with four other guys in a mundane sports bar playing pub trivia is not what I expected, especially considering Noble's usual knack for finding trouble. But it was entertaining enough and I wasn't exactly interested in waiting in a long line outside some insufferable club.

The music fades as the deejay pipes up, “Allll-right. What was the first Arnold Schwarzenegger movie to win four Academy Awards? Believe it or not, it was  _Terminator 2: Judgment Day_ \--”

“What?!” Shouts an incredulous Andrew and Noble tips his head back with a dramatic eyeroll.

“You're fired,” Noble announces, reaching over to steal the pen.

“The category is sports,” the deejay calls out as he goes to his laptop and clicks to the next question on the screen to display on the television. “In boxing, who is the youngest, undisputed heavyweight champion of all time?”

As he draws out the last word of the question like a typical radio announcer, the opening of  _Santeria_  by Sublime settles over the bar.

I tilt over to Noble. “It's Mike Tyson.”

His pen stalls as he lifts his gaze to me. “It's Muhammad Ali.”

I reach over and pull the pen from his hand before I lean in to write what I know is the correct answer on the small piece of paper.

“Dude,” he calls out, dismayed with hands spread as I push my chair back.

I glance back at him over my shoulder with a smirk. “I'm right.”

“You better be right, Jamie,” Sebastian scoffs as he turns to survey the bar. “Because I'm about to forfeit and order some shots.”

“Shots are a good idea either way,” Noble decides.

When I return, I don't miss the chance to lay a firm hand on his shoulder and I give it a rough squeeze.

He clears his throat and adjusts in his chair. “Are we winning?”

“No.” I chuckle, settling in beside him. “But I know my boxing titles.”

“Well I know Schwarzenegger movies,” he announces to the table, pointing his beer bottle at Andrew before he intentionally gets louder -- “but nobody listens to me!”

Already it takes considerable effort not to respond to that the same way I would in private so I just let the curve of a smile tease my mouth before I hide it with my beer.

“Allll-right--” The deejay cuts in, the way he does every time he's about to declare the answer, the music fading. “In boxing, who is the youngest, undisputed heavyweight champion of all time?” He recites. “The answer was Mike. Tyson.”

Half the tables in the bar cheer for themselves while I tilt my head to give Noble a look.

He spreads his hands to answer to it. “I doubted you. What was I thinking?”

“You should never.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Oh hey, was the answer six Jägerbombs?” Sebastian declares returning to the table with a bartender close behind to help carry the tray of glasses. “Because now it is. Forget the game.”

I know I grimace a little as the cocktail server sets the highball glasses in front of us. “Oh damn, seriously?”

“Are you…” Noble starts, lifting a shiny gaze to the waitress. “Legally allowed to serve us these? I'm like, ten years over the acceptable age limit for drinking Jägerbombs.”

“Ha! I dont buy it.” The blonde tilts her head with a grin, glancing to him as she distributes the shots. “You're the youngest guys in this bar anyway, so you get a pass.”

“Yeah, well--” Noble scoffs. “That's not saying much.”

“Here's a game I like--” She starts, straightening back up to rest a hand on her waist. “Show me some ID without showing me your ID.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”

“Oh I get it.” Noble nods, then eases back in his chair as if to consider it. “Let's see. How about this? The very first date I ever went on was in seventh grade,” he recounts. “--To the movies to see  _Mighty Ducks 2_.”

My head falls back and I let out a loud laugh.

The rest of the table claps their amusement. “You sure it wasn’t  _Terminator 2_?” Andrew teases.

“It wasn’t,” Noble laughs. “But I like sequels apparently.”

“That is hilarious,” the waitress approves. “I love it. And you're definitely too old to be ordering Jägerbombs.”

“Who was it?” I question.

“Who was who?”

“The date. Do you remember?”

“Ahh.” He smiles down at the table, his shoulders shifting a little with a bouncy chuckle before he answers. “Lisa Palermo.”

Everyone at the table hollers and entertained cackle. “Lisa Palermo!” Andrew proclaims as if he knows her, then he picks up his shot glass. “Let's cheers to Lisa Palermo.”

“What the fuck?” Noble laughs. “No, dude this night's about you. We have to toast you.”

“No,” Andrew dismisses it. “It's not like this is going to be our last shot of the night.”

“What happened to Lisa Palermo?” Sebastian cuts in. “We should call her.”

I sputter another hard laugh and slap my palm on the table. “Yeah dude, was  _Mighty Ducks 2_  just the beginning?”

“Um, she had her friend dump me at the ice skating rink at Central Park but thanks for making me remember that pain,  _Jamie_.”

The whole thing is cracking me up and I'm just thankful I don't have to keep a straight face around him, especially when he nudges me in the arm with his own.

“Alright. To Lisa!” Andrew calls out, raising his glass and prompting everyone else to do the same. “And Nick, her biggest regret.”

We all let go of the shot, dropping the Jägermeister into the highball glass of fizzy Red Bull. I down mine, swallowing hard before I clear away the lingering spicy sweetness in my throat. “Good god, that was a flashback.”

“Yeah dude,” Noble agrees, setting his glass down hard on the table. “I'm picking the shot next time.”

“Let's do one more round,” Sebastian suggests, pointing over his shoulder. “And then we'll roll out somewhere else.”

Pushing my chair back, I stand up. “Be right back.” Then I cross behind the table to make my way to the bathroom.

I can practically feel Noble's gaze as it trails me but I don't look back. Winding through the crowd between the pool tables, I turn down a dimly lit hallway and push into the men's room.

I'm only in there a couple minutes before the door opens while I'm at the sink.

“How about those Jägerbombs  _bro_?” Noble teases.

“Bro--” I laugh. “Your frat brothers are pretty mellow. I expected to be plastered in a toga by now.”

“I can make that happen.”

Another guy approaches the sink beside me, washes up quickly and moves to pass through the door, leaving the two of us alone.

“I know you can.” I toss my paper towel in the trash and turn to him. “ _Were_ you in a fraternity in college? Please say yes.”

“Alpha Phi Delta at Stony Brook? Hell yeah man.” He grins. “Weren't you?”

I glance up at him, cutting a slow shake of my head. “Definitely not.”

“You should pledge.”

“Yeah?” I smile at him with a tilt of my head, unable to resist playing along. “That could be cool, I'm new on campus--”

“Ss--shit.” He hisses a tempted laugh. “Don't you dare.” Then he steps closer and his hands go to the sides of my face. “ _God_ and you question how much porn I've been watching.”

I exhale a soft laugh as he backs me up against the outside wall of the nearest stall. Tilting my head up, I accept the weight of him as he presses into me, the sly friction of his hip at the top of my thigh.

“Are there pictures?” I wonder, lifting my gaze to him, the corner of my lips curve. “Of you washing cars or playing ultimate frisbee or something?”

“You sick fucking jerk,” he whispers before his lips skate over mine. “Don't be a tease tonight.”

My heart pounds with this hot, jumpy thud considering the door just beyond Noble’s back. But I kiss him. And then I’m quick to leave his bottom lip with the slow pinch of my teeth. “Why not?”

He mumbles his answer into the side of my neck. “Because you look too damn hot, and you smell too fucking good right now.”

“Hmm.” I merely offer a scratchy hum and let my eyes close for a beat to appreciate the heat of his mouth on my skin.

Drawing in a deep inhale just at the collar of my shirt, he draws his face up to the edge of my jaw, “So I don’t think I can handle the tease.”

With a cleansing breath, I arch my neck back before I straighten up in front of him. Reaching down, I quickly flick the dark brown leather of his belt from its buckle. I see the way his lips part, his gaze flicking down, a hopeful jump of his brow just before I maneuver out from between him and the wall. “You can,” I assure him with a smirk as I head for the door. “You’ll like it.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! I had added this chapter on Tumblr and forgot to post it here. :)

“I don’t drink bad tequila.” Noble offers his matter-of-fact statement to the girl who’s apparently decided to takeover this bachelor party.

Once we wound up at whatever this nightclub in South Beach is -- one where Noble knew a guy who could get us a VIP booth -- it wasn’t long before a group of girls figured out our cause for celebration and invited themselves over.

“I’m not trying to be _that guy_. But--” Then he smirks at her from the plush sofa that lines the wall.

The young woman glances up at him as she stretches across the small table in front of us to distribute the icy, clear shots she summoned from the cocktail server. Tossing her dark, curly hair over her shoulder, she scoffs, offended. “Are you saying I bought you bad tequila, papi?”

“Yeah, it’s trash.” He smiles when he says it and  _goddamn_ I don’t think he realizes his effect on people. Or maybe he knows exactly.

She seems caught off guard as a curve starts to edge up the corner of her lips when she looks at him. “Oh, no no--” She announces, holding out her hands.

“They'll drink it,” he reasons, gesturing to the other guys who occupy the booth. Her friends have already made themselves comfortable in between them.

“Why do you say it's trash?”

“It's not trash!” Sebastian announces, edging himself closer from the other side of Noble to be heard over the music. “Thank you, Mariana. Nick’s an asshole. Cheers!”

“Cheers, baby,” she acknowledges him, raising her glass but she doesn't take the shot yet. The deep purple and pink lights of the club cut over the smooth brown skin left bare from her shorts when she manages to step over the table to come closer. “Now you wait a minute--” she redirects her attention to Noble.

He simply peers up at her from his seat, his arm draped along the back of the sofa.

“You're not gonna take a shot with me?”

“Not that stuff.” He nods at her. “But come back with a good añejo and then we'll talk.”

She narrows a teasing gaze at him. “So rude,” she accuses but goes on to settle one knee on the cushion where he sits, then the other over his lap.

He doesn't shift from his lounged back position and I can't help cock one eyebrow at the way she straddles him beside me.

“If I do, then you'll do a shot with me?” She wonders.

I see Noble swallow but just tilts his head back a little and gives her a meaningful pull of his brows. “I don't know, call me  _papi_ again and maybe I'll be convinced.”

A loud, unimpressed groan escapes me but then I have to laugh. “Damn, Nick,” I mutter with a shake of my head.

Amused, Mariana starts to sway to the bouncy rhythm that fills the club, but doesn't lower herself onto his lap, just stays perched over him on her knees.

Then she angles closer to me to shout over the music. “What about you, Prince Charming?”

I humor her. Sitting up a little, I gesture to the table behind her. “Yeah, I'll take it.”

She stretches back and picks up a shot before she turns and presents it to me.

I take the wedge of lime off the rim and she does the same before handing hers to Noble. “Hold that.”

“You'll need the lime to endure that mediocre tequila--” He warns her but she only dismisses him with the flick of her hand and a half smile.

She scoots herself in between the two of us and moves in toward my ear, “In Cuba we say,  _salud, por que la belleza sobra_.”

I squint one eye to process the sentiment. “Salud... por que-- say it again.”

With a giggle, she maneuvers herself closer to me, resting one knee between my legs. Then she drapes her free arm around my neck, holds onto me for balance and presses herself against me. “Salud--”

“Salud--” I echo her.

“Por que la belleza sobra.” The words just sort of swirl together amid the thumping beat that surrounds us. But it all makes something tug in my gut, I won't deny it.

“What's it mean?”

She eases away just enough that I can see Noble watching us, watching  _me_.

“It means cheers to your  _health_ ,” she explains. “Because your beauty is already…” then she pauses, tilting her head to decide on the right translation. “Overwhelming. It’s  _Cheers_ , como un Cubano.”

“Ah.” I kind then hold out my glass between us. “Then salud, por que la belleza sobra,” I recite.

She laughs this satisfied giggle and clinks her glass against mine, briefly licks some salt from the rim and lets her head fall back to down the tequila.

I glance over at Noble when she does and he offers me this exaggerated eyeroll as his mouth falls open.

With a chuckle, I return the pointed look before I tip back the shot. As soon as I do, the burn hits my chest and I blink hard, clearing my throat before I bite down on the piece of lime that I’m holding.

Mariana shifts toward Noble, who still holds her lime in anticipation, and closes her mouth on the citrus. There with her mouth, she takes it from his fingers, sucking on it for a moment as she sits up straight. “Good?” She quirks an eyebrow at me.

I drop the lime wedge in the empty glass and press my lips together, shifting to set the glass on the table. “Yep. Thank you for the drink.”

“Look how polite you are,” Noble muses and I turn my gaze to him to share another glowing, hidden exchange.

“He is!” Mariana agrees and she's still half on my lap, half on the couch, facing us in the small space between Noble and me and I silently will her to ease up on all the…  _shifting_. “He'd never tell a lady the drink she bought for him is trash.”

Noble laughs. “I just know what's good for me.”

Moving back, she gets off the sofa, humming an understanding nod. Then she reaches out and squeezes his face in one hand before she steps over the table. “I'll go see what I can do for you, papi.”

I look over at him as she walks off. “I'm not calling you that.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see,” he teases.

Hissing out a soft laugh, I shake my head. “How often do girls just crawl on your lap after you insult them?”

He looks at me, a coy eyebrow arching.  _This fucker, I swear_.

“I didn't insult her,” he defends.

I nod, narrowing my gaze at him and press my lips together.

He comes closer, leaning in to talk over the music. “Besides, she likes  _you_ anyway. All up in your ear telling secrets.”

“No secrets.”

His gaze lifts to mine, an amused flick curving at the corner of his mouth. I know him well enough to be sure exactly what he’s thinking when his eyes glow that shiny dark green. The heat there exaggerated from the darkness, the flash of colors that dance across face from the pulsing lights.

Turning my head, my mouth finds his ear as he glances back out at the crowd. The way he sits, angled back on the sofa, one arm casually propped along the back, nothing about how close I am to him would raise eyebrows. It’s simply the only way he could hear me.

“How long before we can leave,” I start, “--and go back to your place? Because about thirty seconds after that, you’ll be begging me to let you come.”

Noble’s eyelashes flick and he averts his eyes before he turns to me. “That’s what she said to you?”

I ease back a little, lifting my eyebrows to affirm my seriousness. “Yep.”

I see the fleeting moment of alarm that flares, tugging between his brows before he allays the reaction. His lips part and he manages a breathy laugh in disbelief.

Reaching for my cocktail from the table, I bring the glass to my twitching lips before I lock eyes with him once more. “I’m kidding. She didn’t say that,” I murmur before I sip a hard gulp and watch the slow torment take hold in the way he returns my gaze.

He glances away, fighting amusement then turns to meet my ear. “You know how hard you're gonna make me tonight if you keep saying shit like that in my ear?”

I taste my lips and scan the moving bodies along the dance floor on the other side of the railing. With a slight nod, my cheek pulls up, unable to resist a smile. “Yeah, I know.”

“So then why don't we get the fuck out of here?”

I clear my throat as I glance over to spot Mariana approaching our booth once more. “Because your friend is coming back.”

He looks down to exhale a soft laugh before he turns to me with one if his damn curvy, dangerous grins. “You think you're the only one who can play? Alright,” he decides with a shrug.

“I just don't want to be rude--”

“Mm.” He hums, feigning belief in me. “Right.”

“To your friends. Now to you? Probably.”

“You’ll be rude to me?”

“If you want me to.”

“Fuck.” He whispers the word, then drags a hand up his jawline, over his mouth. “Well that was your out. I'm done offering to ditch this party with you. You’re locked in for the night.”

“That’s alright, let’s stay,” I agree. “Buy me another drink.”

“Where’s Nick?” The cocktail server makes her way over as Mariana leads her to us.

“Here in the dark blue shirt,” she points.

“I hear you have good taste.” The waitress bends down to set her tray with a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses on the table in front of us.

“I like to think so,” he answers.

“Does this meet your standards, papi?”

Noble leans forward, examining the bottle with its gold label and he nods in approval. “Nice. Thank you! Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Alright, shut him up please, Zoë,” Mariana directs the server to pour him a shot. “He’d get slapped if he wasn’t so gorgeous, wouldn’t he?”

Zoë giggles. “Sometimes those are the ones who need it the most.”

“You watch what you threaten me with,” Noble teases. “I’ll turn down your bad tequila, but not you smacking me around.”

Mariana tips her head back with an elated little cackle as Zoë pours the two shots.

_God_ , he’s asking for it. And my resolve to make him crumble, to shatter that charming bravado swirls white hot in my chest.

“And can you bring my nice, polite friend here another John Collins?”

“You got it, Nick.”

As Zoë rounds our section to head back to the bar, Noble looks at me. “See? I’m not rude.”

“Okay, after that drink, you boys are coming with us,” Mariana announces as she passes one shot to Noble.

“Oh yeah? Where are we going?” He taps the glass to hers. “Salud.”

“Salud.” Then she leans in a little to shout to our whole group, “We’re going to Rio and you’re coming.” Then she drinks the shot, slowly arching her neck back and Noble does the same.

But this information seems to catch him off guard and he swallows hard and exhales a hot breath. A little groan rumbles in his chest. He tries to blame it on the shot and just clears his throat. “Ah, fuck.”

“Alright, we’re in!” Sebastian shouts.

“Is my Prince Charming in?” She points at me. “I don’t want to corrupt you, baby. I mean I do, but only if you’re game.”

“What’s Rio?” I wonder.

She laughs, reaching over the table to get the attention of her friend who’s been occupying Sebastian and Andrew. I hear her rattled Spanish, her apparent amusement that I’ve never heard of this place. “... _es un perrito. Lo amo tanto_..” is all I can make out. Then with a gasp, her friend holds her hand to her heart and looks over at me.

Noble leans closer to me. “It’s a strip club.”

 

“Ah. Thank you.” I nod as Zoë returns with my drink. I consider it, and Noble’s promise that I’m _locked in now_  and offer him look with one quirked eyebrow. I can tell he’s hoping for the slightest hesitation from me so that he can orchestrate some sort of exit strategy. But instead, I assure Mariana, “You won’t corrupt me. I’m in.”


	21. Chapter 21

“Mm. No. Not fair.” Noble mumbles as my lips fall from his. “That's not fair.”

My eager mouth brushes across the edge of his jaw in the darkened corner of this bathroom stall. “No?”

“I offered to get us the fuck out of here back at the last spot and you turned me down.”

“I know. I regret that.”

“And you're not gonna get me off in this bathroom.”

“I probably won't. That might seem suspicious.”

He sputters a charming laugh, reaching for my sides.

I pull him to me, wrapping an arm around his neck and backing up a step to the opposite wall. “Alright, I'll duck out before it's noticeable. I just wanted to come say hi.”

“Don't be cute. God that's even worse.”

“Okay fine, I'm done being cute.”

Noble just growls his frustration low in his chest and it makes me laugh. There I set my palms and ease him away as I turn for the latch on the door.

“Knowing your girlfriend, she'll probably follow you in here if you leave her any longer than ten seconds,” I tease. Stopping at the sink, I give myself a once-over in the mirror, fixing my shirt back into the waist of my pants.

“Who?”

I scoff, echoing his obvious question. “Who do you think?”

“Oh yeah. She probably would.”

Mariana had been all over Noble since we got here. It turns out it’s her night off, but she works at Rio. And she’d been making it her mission to call girls --  _dancers_ \-- over to him as if seeking his approval.

He makes his way to the bank of sinks. “You act like it’s just me. If that other one parked herself next to you any longer, you'd probably write her a ticket.”

With a tipsy laugh, I find that more amusing than it really is and shake my head. “I mean what am I supposed to do? She asked me if I  _want a dance_  but like… what does that even mean?”

Noble cuts me a look, tilting his head as if I'm an idiot.

“I know what it  _means_ but like, I don't want one. So-- Do I just say  _no thanks, but you're welcome to sit and hang out_?”

“I doubt she came to work tonight to  _sit and hang out_. Even with you, Prince Charming.”

“She kinda looks like Nina,” I quip, noticing the flick of one eyebrow.

Noble merely manages a narrowed, thoughtful gaze just before the door is pushed open and another guy enters.

With a faint shrug, I turn for the door. “You think?” Then I make my way out, leaving Noble to wait a minute or two before he follows back to our table.

The section that Mariana had secured for us is tucked away, an almost private banquette on a raised level overlooking a bar, a stage and a dance floor below. It’s dark aside from pulsing turquoise and violet club lights. And between that, and the thud of heavy bass, the distinct sweet, powdery scent happening in here -- not to mention half naked women -- everything has got me on a little sensory overload. It takes a moment to adjust back to it once I exit the bathroom.

I find our section once more and return to the table beside Noble’s friends on the couch. “So are you friends with Nick from back when he…. you know, partied a lot?” Andrew leans in beside me to ask.

“Um.” My eyes scan the room before I ease back to answer him. “A little of that, yeah.”

“I’ve only really known him since like, last year but from what he’s told me about his past in New York, he’s come a long way.”

I’m not quite sure how much of his  _past in New York_  Noble has revealed. But I assume Andrew’s talking about his drug use specifically.

“Yeah, that’s never really been my scene,” I tell him. “But I know he’s had some close calls.”

“I think it carried over when he moved here. There were definitely a few mornings he didn’t show up for work when I first knew him. I got sent over to his place once just to check on him and he was pretty out of it--”

Pressing my lips together, I try to ignore the way my pulse jumps, twitching uneasy in my gut. I look at him. “Recently?”

“No.” Andrew shakes his head.

I nod, relieved. “That’s good.”

“Not at all. He’s like a changed man.”

I exhale a soft laugh and see Noble crossing over to our section. With a covert look, his gaze briefly meets mine and that uneasy tug is allayed.

“Changed for the better, yeah?” I wonder, almost absently. My eyes can’t help but follow him.

“Yeah.” Andrew laughs. “It’s good to see. Maybe he’s working out more or something.”

A subtle curve surfaces at my cheek. “Maybe.”

“He comes to work at seven a.m. and he’s already run like, a 10K or some shit.”

“What?” I have to scoff at the exaggeration, but there is some truth to that claim and I’m proud of him. “He’s an asshole,” I mutter with an amused smirk.

Andrew chuckles. “Hey, whatever keeps him out of trouble.”

“Probably not this place,” I quip.

Noble maneuvers behind our table and makes a big scene out of wedging himself between Andrew and me on the couch. We shift apart to make room. “Oh, you fools haven't been kicked out of here yet?” He announces over the music, letting his weight fall heavy at my side.

“I'm sure we would’ve but apparently you have pull around here.”

“No-no-no,” Noble insists. “Believe it or not, I have no strings to pull at this place--”

“Hey-oh!” Andrew shouts, clearly happy about the pun. “I could probably find some strings to pull around here.”

“Um, you watch your hands there,” Noble warns him with a tilted grin. “If Paige questions me about your behavior tonight, I want to be able to answer her honestly.”

Andrew nods with an appreciative laugh just before he downs what remains of his cocktail. Then he moves to stand up, lifting innocent hands. “I don’t want any trouble.” He gestures a finger away as if he’s headed elsewhere just as the brunette dancer, the Nina look-alike, who was chatting me up earlier returns.

“You don’t want any trouble?” She teases with an indignant cry.

With a shake of his head, Andrew retreats a step, as if to ensure he keeps his distance. “No trouble,” he tells her with a smile. “Light mischief, maybe. But you know who’s been asking for big trouble? It’s this one.” He drops a palm hard on my shoulder. “He’s from out of town. He said Miami girls aren’t as hot as New York girls--”

Her mouth drops open and she narrows a dark gaze at me.

“I never--” I insist, but I sputter a laugh anyway as I reach out to shove Andrew on the back. “Hey, I never said that.”

“Ha!” Noble shouts, leaning toward the table to reach for his drink.

Andrew, amused with himself, leaves me one more slap on the back of the shoulder before he rounds the table, calling “I’ll be back in a minute,” and makes his way down the steps.

“So what do you do in New York?” She wonders, helping herself to a seat on my lap. “Can I guess?”

“Sure.” I adjust beneath her, but her weight hardly bothers me. She’s just perched there on one thigh, turned so her body faces Noble, and wearing a tiny black, but completely see-through, bra tied in a bow in the center of her chest and skimpy black bottoms with a matching bow at each hip.

“Something with like, a bank. Investments,” she guesses.

Noble cracks up beside me when he hears this and I have to let my head drop with a laugh.

“What if I told you--” He chimes in. “That you could buy Branotech for nineteen dollars a share and double your portfolio in only eight weeks--?”

“Shhh--” My chest caves with a heavy laugh and I reach over to shove him. “Shut up. Dumbass.”

“Brani-what?” She wonders.

“Nothing.” I shake my head. “Don't listen to him.” Then I push my palm hard against his thigh, a move that I could easily chalk up to drunken, platonic contact. But the way he responds with the push back of his leg beneath my hand… god,  _fuck_.

He adjusts, leaning forward to set his glass on the table. “It's a dark horse stock. Nobody believes me.”

“I don't work at a bank,” I tell her. “Or a hedge fund.”

“You’re in marketing.”

“No.”

She trails a hand through my hair prompting me to lift my chin to look at her with a heavy gaze. “A brain surgeon?”

With a half smile, I murmur and agreeable, “Yes, I'm a brain surgeon.”

“Mm, that's amazing,” she purrs, pretending to believe me.

“I know.”

She giggles, her fist tightening in my hair before she pushes my head aside. “Ugh,  _you_. It's a good thing you don't live here,” she notes. “You'd break my heart in a hot second.”

“I wouldn't do that.”

She smirks. “Do you remember my name?”

“Veronica.”

“Yes.” Her eyes flash with her appreciative grin.

“Do you remember mine?” I wonder.

She moves a little closer, slowly shaking long dark hair off one bare shoulder. She looks at me, a coy jump of one eyebrow before she leans into my ear. There, she sips a faint breath, the warmth ghosting across my skin just as her bottom lip brushes my neck, right below my ear.

The move makes me blink hard and I know I don’t breathe for a moment. There’s no way I can sit unfazed at the sensation. My pulse is already so damn jumpy, little pops of electric heat shooting off inside me at just about anything at this point.

I feel her lips at my ear and she answers, “Jamie.”

I clear my throat and glance over at Noble. I see his brows lift, lips parting with a smile that’s caught by surprise. But he lets his head fall and he laughs, running his hand down his face.

“Good memory,” is all I can manage. I gesture to Noble beside me. “What about him?”

“That's Nick.”

“You've seen him in here before?”

She seems to scrutinize him for a moment and shakes her head. “No.”

Noble cuts me this offended look.

I defend the accusation before he even says anything. “What, I'm just asking. You know people everywhere else we've been tonight.”

As soon as I make the comment , Noble’s gaze settles on me for just a second longer than it should. But I don’t break it quick enough either.

Veronica speaks up. “I’m sure I’d remember him.”

I look at her, acknowledging that with a nod, and notice how her shiny eyes flit all around my face for a quiet beat. Then they narrow in thought and she bites her lip.

“What’s that?” I wonder, mirroring her contemplation.

“You don’t want a dance, do you?”

“I didn’t say that.” I shrug. Because I’m not sure how to answer that. It’s kind of the whole point of being here.

“Does he?” She turns her attention to Noble.

With a meaningful, furrowed brow, he beckons her closer with a finger and leans toward us. Veronica complies, stretching closer to him from my lap where Noble lets his hand go to the side of her head to steady her as he murmurs something there in her ear.

I glance over at him. This close to me, he consumes my attention and I don’t know how long I can fake that he’s not. I’m probably failing to convince people that he doesn’t already have it anyway.

He looks at me as he talks to her. And when that covert gaze connects it makes me feel my pulse in my throat. It’s all I can do to manage a steady, controlled exhale through my nose.

After a moment, she nods and begins to ease off of my lap. She squeezes fingers one more time in my hair before dragging her nails there and tells us she’ll be back in a minute.

A heavy breath escapes me when I look over at him, ready to cut this shit and leave. “Are we outta here?”

“No-no-no.” He smirks. “She’s coming back and you’re getting another drink. And a lapdance.”

Blowing out a laugh, I glance away and shake my head. “I’ll remember this generosity, I hope you know.”

“Good,” he notes.

What I wouldn’t trade right now to slam him up against the nearest wall in some dark room so hard it knocks the air from his chest. I’d grasp that thick hair of his in my fingers and fill him with the heat from my mouth until it was all that sustained him. I’d be the most shamelessly possessive fuck he’d ever known and he’d be ruined.

But instead I adjust back, blinking the room into focus when our cocktail waitress shows up with fresh drinks and Veronica leading the way.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for this night to really start. This is a real trashbag of a chapter - fair warning. Strippers, misbehaving all sorts of ways, Jamie’s insanely filthy mouth, etc. They really take it up a notch here.

A new beat fades in over the previous song and Veronica makes her way up the steps and approaches me. From her position in front of me, almost in silhouette under the low red and purple lights, she leans in and pushes her hands down on my shoulders.

I glance up in anticipation with this uneasy mix of apprehension, embarrassment and curiosity.

Running her hands down the length of my arms, she bends forward at the waist and takes my hands off my lap, then plants them on the cushions of the couch on either side of my legs. The pressure she puts there, squeezing like she’s reminding me not to touch her, makes me swallow hard and I abide by the unspoken orders.

Slinking further down to her knees, her hands trail a path down my thighs to my knees where she spreads them further apart.

I want to look over at Noble, but Veronica’s eyes never leave mine with this sparkly little tease to them along with the curve of her smile and I’m almost afraid to look away. Is he watching? Is he purposely paying attention to the stage in the distance in an attempt to ignore this? I don’t know what his angle is other than trying to torture me.

Then her palms coast back up my legs, slow along the insides of my thighs and  _alright fine_ , it’s not a position I mind watching her in. She eases in closer, lifting her chin as if to tell me something, and guides her hand up my chest, bringing me closer by my neck.

She meets me in the middle, rising up on her knees and asks in my ear, “Do you like being on top?”

I’m stuck on the question for a second. Even back when I only had sex with women, I wouldn’t really know how to answer this. I mean...  _sure_?

I lick my bottom lip and consider it as I turn to her ear. “Wh--like when?”

With a soft giggle, she slowly moves up, this seamless transition from the floor as one knee slides in between my legs. Subtly she rolls against me, urging me to rest back against the couch.

I look up at her and watch her come closer. She tosses her hair across her back as she bends to my ear once more. “With him.”

The air stalls hot in my chest and my gaze flicks away with a shift of my brow. My face tingles with that relaxed, tipsy daze but I still feel the unguarded twitch at the corner of my mouth. “Is that what he told you?” I question.

“No.” She strokes a hand through my hair, down my head. There, she grasps the back of my neck, balancing herself as she sinks onto my lap. “Just wondering.”

Playfully, I narrow my gaze and accuse her, “Speculating.”

She drags her teeth over her lower lip, seemingly pleased that I didn’t refute the assumption. “Hoping.”

I have to laugh. She’s damn cute, I’ll give her that. “Believe what you want to believe.”

“Mmkay, I will,” she agrees, tilting into me as her hips circle a slow rhythm on top of me. Then she looks down and takes between her fingers one end of the dainty, black satin bow that holds her top together in the center between her breasts. “Hold that,” she tells me.

I lift my gaze to her and angle my head. “Thought I can’t use my hands.”

“You will when I tell you to.”

I cough out another laugh and press my lips together as I glance down. “Well damn. If you insist.” With one hand, I reach up and gently grasp the end of the ribbon that’s tied there. I oblige, politely holding it like she said and look at her once again.

With another coy smirk, she rocks her hips until she eases off my lap. Once she moves back to stand up, the ribbon comes untied and I’m left with the end of it between my fingers as the tiny, sheer black top falls open.

I’ve always been told I have a terrible poker face so who the fuck knows what I look like right now. With Noble right beside me, I’m positive he’s angled back against the couch, playing it completely cool but holding his breath as he scrutinizes my every move.

Veronica lets the top fall to the floor -- not that it had exactly left anything to the imagination anyway -- and turns her back to me. In a controlled dip, she lowers onto my lap once again, tilting hips back.

I fixate for a moment on the faint tattoo I can make out on the low arch of her back, then another one on the back of her neck that I see when she shakes her hair over one shoulder.

Just then I feel Noble edge in closer beside me, leaning in to ask over the music, “I can’t tell if this will backfire on me later.” His voice alone sends a stiff throbbing swell to my dick that despite the light friction from Veronica’s movements, I’d been able to suppress.

Slowly, I turn my head to glance back at him. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“Does this make you question everything that you’ve been missing for the past four months?”

With a soft laugh, I feel the smirk crest on my lips and I offer a subtle shake of my head. “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

“Should I be?” He wonders. “I mean I’m not gonna wear that or anything, but let me like, warm up a little and I might could pull off some of those moves--”

I’m not really in the mood anymore for him to try to make me laugh. I angle my chin up so that my mouth is right at his ear and he tilts his head. “The only move I’m interested in is you bent the fuck over as soon as we get home so I swear to god, you’d better be ready to go when this is done.”

“Ssshh--it.” He trails off in a whisper before he slides a hand over his mouth, faking a jaw scratch and tries to downplay any kind of reaction.

I turn my head away and peer out at the club to see Mariana, who'd been making the rounds for a while now -- I figured she lost interest in us -- approaching our section with another dancer's hand in hers.

Quickly she makes her way to our couch and I sort of half pay attention considering Veronica is leaned back against my chest, feeling herself up, and still circling a figure eight with her hips on my crotch. With a loud giggle, Mariana pounces onto Noble's lap beside me, landing on her knees to straddle his thighs.

He gives into her with a surprised chuckle. “Well hey,” he acknowledges her.

“Have you missed me?” I hear her ask.

“I… yeah--”

But then before he even answers, she moves in and captures his lips with her own. Grasping the sides of his face, she holds him there just as Noble subtly turns away. He retracts, pulling his mouth off hers as he takes her hand from his cheek and pinches his lips together.

_Holy fuck_. All of this surrounding us, all that's happened tonight and I'm pretty even-tempered about it. But I see that and my chest burns. Not out of anger at him, or even her, but out of this blinding selfish need I feel for control. For  _him_.

He looks at her, this teasing smile as he shakes his head as if to let her down gently.

But she seems too drunk to really try to persuade him and she just laughs again, wrapping arms around his neck before she crawls off him. Reaching over, she grabs Veronica’s wrist to get her attention and brings her closer to say something in her ear.

While the two of them are occupied there, the song ends and I turn to look at Noble. I attempt to discern the expression on his face but before the wordless exchange can linger long, Mariana pulls back.

She leans down, seeming to assure Noble something in his other ear, pats his face in her hand and turns to leave. Apparently, she had informed him that he was about to get a dance of his own from Veronica.

The petite dancer shifts from my lap to his, not before ruffling my hair one more time and pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“Oh--” Noble utters as he leans back on the couch to peer up at her.

She stands in front of him and bends forward, planting her hands on his thighs so she can talk to him at eye level. I hear her ask him, “Were you about to leave?”

He glances away but arches an intrigued eyebrow. “You want me to stay?”

She nods teasing the corner of her parted lip with the tip of her tongue. “For one dance.”

Noble tilts his head as if he’s giving it thoughtful consideration. God I hope she smacks him.

Then Veronica offers this exaggerated pout and holds up one finger, awaiting his approval.

He mirrors it, holding up his index finger between them. “Alright one.”

Her eyes flash at him and never leave as she moves in and gently bites down on his knuckle. There she drags her teeth up the length of his finger and it earns her one of his throaty laughs.

He pulls it away and grazes her bottom lip with his fingertip, then brushes the underside of her chin, like he’s telling her  _that’s enough of that_ , and slips his arm back onto the top of the couch.

With a misbehaving little laugh, she tips toward him, grasps his head and murmurs something in his ear that makes him blink hard. Then she eases back, trailing her head down his chest, his stomach, and makes her way to her knees between his legs.

He glances over at me with this look of confusion and I offer it back to him. Leaning over, he tells me, “She just said,  _He’s gonna make you come so fucking hard tonight and I wish I could watch_.”

With raised brows, I lift my chin to process that prediction. “I'm sure she does,” I muse.

He glances down to watch as she slides her hands along the crease at his thighs and rubs him there before she stands up. As she turns away from him, stepping wide to make a perfect  _A_  shape with her legs, she tilts her ass out and bends over.

I take the opportunity to adjust closer beside him, stretching an arm along the back of the couch to lean once again into his ear as the bass of the music surrounds us.

“Is that what you want?” I ask him. “You want her to watch?”

Pressing his lips together, he shakes his head.

“I think she should watch,” I murmur. “But I'll make you wait to get off.”

I hear him swallow down a frustrated groan and he adjusts, playing it off to blame the lapdance he's trying to convince people he's paying attention to.

“Because when we get home I want you on your knees. And I want you to suck my cock so goddamn slow--”

“Jesus--” He whispers in a hiss of breath, refusing to look at me.

I'm turned toward his ear but I just look like anyone else trying to be heard over the music. It's not questionable considering how loud this place is.

“Can you do that?” I wonder.

Letting his eyes close for a moment, he licks his lip and bobs a slight nod.

I go on, provoked by the way he’s just barely hanging on to his resolve to keep it together. I glance over at Veronica, my eyes on her but my breath at his ear when I tell him, “Stroke me hard the way I like it until I come in your mouth. And she watches you fucking swallow it all because you need my dick so damn bad. Don't you?”

His head drops onto the back of the couch and I watch the thick clench of his throat.

I ease back a little bit and scratch a fingertip just below my lip while I avert my gaze, then return it to him. “Yeah?”

He nods.

“Tell me.”

Veronica is up against him on the couch, one thigh in between his legs while she leans into the other side of him. She’s probably kissing his neck, but at this point he wouldn’t even notice. 

He picks up his head and angles toward me. “I need to taste your cock so fucking bad, Jamie.” His gravelly voice assures me. Immediately, my hard-on throbs for him when I hear those words from his mouth. The confession makes my cheek twitch as he continues. “I know exactly how you want it. And no one else is going to watch but  _you_ while you fuck my mouth as slow and as deep as you fucking want until you come. I won't stop until you tell me to.”

I can't deny the way my eyebrow jumps and I don't fight the sly smile on my face. It's a joke if I think I'll be able to do anything slow as soon as I get him alone but I can torture him with the promise.

I turn my head again, moving to his ear. “I do love when you swallow,” I mutter.  “But I don't think in your mouth is where I'm gonna finish tonight. And if I do it won't be the last place.” I leave him with that before I reach for my cocktail and down a hearty gulp. The heat from the booze tingling in my pulse and giving away how fucking bad I want him. I can’t seem to give a damn though.

As I’m replacing my glass on the table, he gets my attention with the back of his hand against my arm and I lean in once more.

“Hey. I’ll take care of all this,” he tells me just as Veronica turns around on his lap and practically fucking lays on him. “You make your way and meet me outside in five minutes. Don’t even worry about the guys. I’ll make something up.”

With a deep inhale, I run my hand across my mouth and look around the club, then manage a casual glance far in the distance toward the exit.

Noble’s grip tightens, this time on my shoulder and he doesn’t even have to say anything. The squeeze alone says _right fucking now_. 


	23. Chapter 23

“I don't want to ever do that again,” Noble decides. He turns his key in the deadbolt at the side entrance of his house.

“Do what?” I mutter while I wait at his back and we get inside. “Go to a strip club?”

“Well that too. But also go a whole night pretending that you’re not my--” He all but flings his keys to the floor before he turns. “--ridiculously hot boyfriend--” His hands find my head where he curls fingers in my hair.

I let him urge me a step back until I meet the closed door and his mouth comes down on mine.

I savor the warmth of his kiss for a slow moment but then pull away with a rumbling laugh. “Oh, you’re gonna be cute all of a sudden?”

“I've been cute all night!” He insists and the way he says it, his smooth voice and boyish grin, is damn adorable and he'd better quit.

“Oh yeah?” I urge myself off the door, pushing him back and I reach for his belt buckle. “Did you think it was cute kissing some girl?”

Feigning exaggerated insult, his brows draw together as his mouth opens. “I didn't kiss anybody.”

My lips twist to hide a curvy smile and I tug loose the leather strap, unbuckling it. “Don't lie to me.”

A little breathy grunt escapes him. “I wouldn't.”

“People just kiss you and you have nothing to do with it?”

“Are you being jealous?”

I nod my head, grasping his dress shirt to pull it loose from the waist of his pants. “A little bit.”

“All night, all I wanted was you,” he says, reaching for my own shirt. “All the time, all I want is you.”

“Oh damn, listen to you.” Wrapping my hands around his wrists, I stop him from his attempt to unbutton my shirt. “You must think you're in big trouble.”

“Am I?” His eyes light up as we round the corner to the darkened hallway.

There I tighten my grip on his wrists and shove him back. It forces a surprised grunt from his chest when I lay a palm there and push him into the wall. “We'll see,” I breathe just before my mouth falls on his.

I move all my weight against him and it’s like I can feel him relent beneath me, my hold on the back of his neck keeping him from sinking to the floor.

I get his shirt off, swiftly pulling it down his shoulders. Reaching lower, my palm gropes the front of his jeans and I can’t help my throaty approval when I feel his rigid shaft beneath it. I tug open the button and zipper.

With a low moan, he pulls off my kiss. Fuck, my pulse alive in my bottom lip, it actually hurts when he leaves me.

“Are we gonna have sex in the hallway?” He wonders, a teasing shine in his eyes. “Because I have a bed--”

Yanking him by the forearm, I have to smile at his tipsy little laugh that downshifts into a breathy groan when I twist his arm behind his back in a wristlock.

“Fucking smartass--” I mutter.

“Mm. Shit--” he exhales when I inch his bent arm higher up his back and direct him down the hall toward his room. “Officer, please--”

A chuckle vibrates my chest as we amble past the threshold to his dark bedroom, Noble still in my grasp. “Take your damn clothes off,  _god_.”

He manages a lazy laugh, that charming gaze heavy over me before I let him go and he obliges.

Stepping back, I tug off my own shirt, then grasp the button on my jeans. I'm not sure how we managed to keep ourselves in check on the cab ride home. Once we left that club and hit the breezy night air, the dull lingering thud of bass between our ears, taxis were waiting on the curb and we snagged one. I'm drunk but I'm not so far gone that I'd get off in the back of a Miami cab. So instead I tipped my head back against the seat. I let the air that passed through the open window revive my senses, and cracked up with Noble about the stupidity of the entire night, his hand in mine resting on the seat between us.

That whole drive back to his place -- with this epic sense of both freedom and anonymity -- felt like a movie or some other life that I still can't believe is mine. A purely present moment that almost made me feel invincible.

And now we're here and he's mine. Just us, and it's quiet and it's real. There's no sweeping realizations about anything. We both just exist on this level with one another where we've gathered the courage to let go and open our eyes and there was never anything to be afraid of.

“I win.” Noble tosses his boxers aside and proudly holds his hands up for me.

Blowing out a laugh, I grab him around his middle and sling him to the bed. He bounces a little on his back and in a rush, I push off my own boxers and follow on top of him.

Eagerly, he welcomes my weight as I sink against him, pinning him there beneath me and meet his mouth.

A soft groan echoes in his chest as he runs his hands hard up my back, fingertips digging like he aches for the pressure. His needy touch is such a damn turn-on -- all the ways he couldn't when we were out in public, he finds with me now.

I exhale, letting my kiss pull away. “I don't want to do that again either, okay?”

“What?”

“Pretend. That you're not mine.”

I watch the way his heated gaze darts across my face.

“It was fun for a minute--” I tell him, a smile slanting on my cheek before I duck down and touch my lips to his neck while my wandering hand moves between his legs. “But. If I ever have to see someone else kiss you again, I swear I won't be so nice about it.”

His hands trail my back, down and up into my hair. I see a smirk start to shine in his eyes.

I add, “Don't take that as a challenge, either.”

“Oh-ho,” he chuckles, arching his head back. His fist closes tight in my hair as the idle stroke of my hand pumps his hard-on. “You think it was just me getting all that attention?”

I mumble a scoff. “Please. I want  _you_ and you know it.”

He hums another satisfied groan when I kiss him again, a deep, hungry brush of my tongue across his. Tugging a little at my bottom lip, he pulls away once more to say, “Besides someone else kissing me, what do I have to do to see you not-so-nice?”

This impatient growl rattles inside me as I sit up on my knees, tugging him up with me by the back of his neck. “I  _need_ to fuck you. Do you know that?”

He whispers against my mouth, “God, please.”

“Your mouth first.” I adjust back, off his lap to sit across the bed, guiding him closer.

He grasps my cock, kneels forward and takes me into his mouth.

My head tips back at the swirling sensation of eager heat and I catch myself, propping one arm behind me as I angle back. Urging him closer with my other hand, I'm shameless about encouraging more as he sinks me farther to the back of his throat.

With a slow lift of my hips, I meet his strokes. A part of me wants to fall onto my back and let go until he finishes me off. I could any minute, he's so damn good.

But instead I'm stirred by the sight of him in front of me. It flickers sparks inside me and I'll be damned if I'm going to let go now.

“Turn over,” I manage my breathless instructions. Swallowing hard, I mentally rein in this throbbing need to get off. What I want is him. For him to wind up fucking destroyed, to understand what he truly does to me when he pushes me as far as I'm about to take him.

I'm already going for a condom from the nightstand when he begins to shift away. I don't know if I can be as patient as he usually is with me. Even when he's in control, he relents to my lead. But I can't relent. I get my fingers slick from his bottle of lube and lower myself against his back as he stretches across the bed.

Dragging my hand along the slope of his ass, I tip down and touch a kiss to the back of his shoulder, over the defined arch and the valley there as I move across him.

As if on edge, Noble draws in a faint hiss of air when my finger slips between his cheeks.

I exhale hard when I feel him react and his back eventually lets go of his breath when my middle fingertip begins to massage there at his opening.

“Ah,  _god_ ,” he whispers, pushing back against me, taking more as the length of my finger sinks inside him.

I mumble a satisfied groan against his back, moving against him. My teeth graze the curve of his shoulder where I leave him with a rough little bite that prompts a gravelly moan.

Then I sit up in my knees, easing out my finger before the stimulation ends it for him. I tug back on his hip, sliding a hand down the curve of his ass. Parting him there, I position myself and slowly graze him with the tip of my cock.

Propped up on his forearms, he hangs his head, even heavy breaths as he waits, then swallows a restrained moan when I start to ease my way further.

I pause with a steady inhale. The rise and fall of my chest a calming contrast to my pounding heart. The shadows in the room, our midnight blue silhouettes that every now and then catch the moonlight, the broken breaths in the quiet -- so completely opposite from the distractions earlier in the night -- heighten what an intense fucking connection we feel.

I check as inch my way more inside him. A low grunt teases my throat as I feel the way his muscles relax. “Is that good?”

He nods. “Yes.”

I whisper hot, murmured appreciation, eventually sinking all the way in. “ _Ahh god_. That's it,” I tell him, holding a hand on his back and keeping still for a moment.

Fuck, it's too much. The slick heat makes my pulse throb, courses through me in a possessive fire that I can barely escape.

Leaning forward, I run a hand up his side and bring my chest down to his back.

With another low groan, seeming to crave my weight. He sinks lower, reaching up and around to grasp for the back of my neck.

“Mm,  _fuck_ ,” he grits, fingers curling in my hair, encouraging as I push into him a little harder.

I drop my face in the curve of his neck, exhaling sharp and hot on his skin.

I'm fucking gone. The feeling has me high I need to completely own him. I adjust to my side, panting breathy approval as I watch him shift with me.

I push his knee up to keep myself buried inside him and slowly rock my hips.

“ _Ohh_ , fffuck yes,” he groans and there's almost this amused rush of air from him, or maybe disbelief that he likes it so much. “ _Fuck!_ ” He keeps calling out, taking hold of his cock in his fist.

I adjust to gain more leverage, grasp his hair in my other hand and fuck him with the most restrained stroke I can manage. I know that's all it takes and he's there. 

Arching his head back against me, he cries out again then stiffens, the air trapped in his lungs as his climax defeats him.

He pulls me closer, folding into the bed where he buries his face and muffled swears and I finally let go along with him.

Ragged and uneven, the release feels endless, both of us with muscles seizing again the second I think we're completely spent.

My palm slides up his side and I rest heavy at his back. Finally, I pick up my head, leaving a kiss on the inside of his thick biceps as his grip eases out of my hair.

“Are you okay?” I wonder.

“Nope,” he mumbles into the bed.

I have to laugh, a breathless chuckle as I offer a reassuring stroke of my hand up his chest and kiss his shoulder.

“Hey,” he adds.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


	24. Chapter 24

“Hey.” I whisper into Noble's messy hair as I set my hands on the bed and lean over him. “Noble.”

“Mm.” He merely hums his sleepy response into his pillow.

“I gotta go soon.”

He turns onto his stomach beneath the covers and murmurs, “No you don't.”

“I do,” I laugh. “It's seven.”

With a quick inhale, he lifts his head, pushing himself up. “Oh shit.”

“It's okay.” I sit down on the edge of the mattress. “I've got a car coming.”

He takes a moment to turn and get himself upright, sliding his hands up his face while he wakes up. Scratching a hand at the back of his head, he finally squints one eye at me. “Damn, how long have you been up?”

I glance down at myself, already showered, dressed and packed. “Not long.”

A soft moan rumbles in his throat and he leans forward, bringing me into a hug. Ducking down, he rests his face against my chest. “You want some breakfast?”

“No.” I wrap my arms around his bare back, my palm skating a path there before moving into his hair. “I'm good. I want you to go back to sleep.”

“With you,” he mumbles, already halfway there.

I have to smile despite the bittersweet tug at my heart. “I can't.”

He sighs. “I know.”

“We knew this one would be short,” I remind him and he nods before I add, “It was fun though.”

I can hear the smirk in the low chuckle before he sits back. “It was fun. Considering you were only here for all of what, sixteen hours or something, we did alright.”

“We definitely…  _crammed_ a lot in while I was here--”

Noble's shoulders drop as he tilts his head to offer me an unimpressed look. “Get out of my house.”

Amused with myself, I push against his chest and then dive forward to tackle him back to the pillow as I climb over top of him.

“Ugh!” He calls out a dramatic groan as he holds me against him. “Don't you have somewhere to be?”

“Yes.” Nuzzling my face into his neck, I bite an affectionate little kiss there. Then I force myself to sit back up and reach for my phone to check the status of my ride. “Stay naked. Don't get up,” I tell him as I get to my feet. I need to just go because prolonging the inevitable makes it more painful.

He reaches out to pull me to him once more, dragging palms down my back. Resting his forehead low on my stomach, he sits there for a quiet moment.

I run my hand over his hair, appreciating the way he feels, knowing I'll be without it until the next time.

He manages another deep breath and lifts his head to look up at me. “I'll talk to you tonight.”

“Okay.” I lean down, tilting his face in my hands and press a kiss on his lips. Then another on his forehead before I mess up his hair even more and back away. “I'm out of here. I love you.”

Tipping over to fall back onto his pillow, he settles an arm behind his head. “Love you too,” he murmurs.

Retreating, I go for my backpack, steal one more glance at him before I head out the door. I let myself out as my ride pulls up in front of his house. And once more, I'm on my way back to the city alone.

* * *

 

**Jamie** : _Fuck I'm so tired_.

I send off the text and let my hand drop heavy on the bed. I shouldn't let myself lie down, but I have a short window of time between getting home from the airport and needing to leave for my dad's. Just long enough to get sleepy with the cold December fog still hanging in the air outside.

> **Noble** :  _You home?_

**Jamie** : _I'm home._

> **Noble** : _No sleep on the plane?_

**Jamie** :  _You know I can't._

> **Noble** :  _You shouldn't have had that shit tequila. I told you._

I manage a lazy chuckle and type back:  _That shit tequila was probably the tamest thing that went down last night so I doubt that prompted my fast downfall._

Noble just texts back a smug faced emoji.

> **Noble** :  _Personally I liked your downfall._

**Jamie** : _I bet. How do you feel?_

> **Noble** :  _Uh… hurting._

**Jamie** : _Are you really?_

> **Noble** : _lol yeah. But I'm fine._

I probably went harder than I should have for his first time. I really tried, but damn I wanted him so bad and we were four or five cocktails deep. And honestly after the night we had, the teasing and the muttered promises and the anticipation, it's amazing I managed the restraint that I did. Being on top definitely gave me an appreciation of how good he really is to me. As exhausted as I am, I still stir a little at the memory of him inside me and shift as I attempt to suppress the aching want.

> **Noble** :  _At least I can nap all day. I feel bad you can't get some more sleep._

**Jamie** : _I'll go to bed early tonight. Don't feel sorry for me. It's the best kind of tired._

> **Noble** : _Hell yeah it is. Also guess what. Don't judge me, I'm still not dressed and haven't left my room._

**Jamie** :  _Seriously? I've flown all the way up the east coast and you're still naked in bed?_

> **Noble** :  _Hey, I showered. But then… you know._

**Jamie** :  _It only hurts because that's exactly where I want to be right now._

He sends back a series of hearts and a little pathetic groan rumbles in my chest.

**Jamie** :  _Are you wearing your glasses?_

> **Noble** :  _Yes._

**Jamie** :  _You're so damn cute._

Damn I'm in some kind of sappy ass mood.

> **Noble** : _I'm lazy and fucked. And I miss you._

**Jamie** :  _Then I'd consider that a successful weekend visit._

> **Noble** :  _It definitely was. You did good._

**Jamie** : _I'll try not to be distracted by these thoughts while I get through dinner with my family._

> **Noble** :  _Let me know how that goes._

* * *

 

“Uncle Jamie, where were you yesterday?” Sean questions me as soon as I make my way into the living room at my dad's house. There, my youngest nephew sits on the floor facing the coffee table, a growing stack of Uno cards between him and my grandpa who's half paying attention from the couch with the Jets-Packers game on behind Sean's head. “You missed my game. I scored six points!”

“Aw, bud I'm sorry I missed it.” I dodge the question. “Next Saturday, I promise.”

“Promise,” Sean asserts. “It's our last game before Christmas break.”

“You got it,” I assure him.

“Your turn, Pop,” Nicky speaks up then looks from her cards to me. “Hey, next Saturday you're taking me driving. Don't forget.”

I shrug and look at her. “I can do both. We'll go for a drive in the afternoon.”

She quirks a pleased little smile.

Behind the couch, I lean down next to Grandpa's shoulder and gesture to the cards in his hand. “Play the Skip, and the Draw Two,” I tell him.

Slowly, he turns to look at me. “Do you mind?”

With a laugh, I stand upright, leave him with a gentle pat and look toward the kitchen.

“We can deal you in if you want to play,” he tells me.

“Maybe after dinner. I'm gonna see if they need any help.”

I make my way through the living room and return to the kitchen where Danny and my sister stand at the island prepping a salad.

“Hey, look who it is!” Danny announces.

“Hey.” Greeting him with a happy slap on the back, I move over to Erin and she offers me the angle of her face for a kiss while she works. I oblige and press a quick peck there. “Smells good, Linda.”

“Pork loin!” Danny’s wife calls out.

“Sean missed you yesterday, kid,” my brother reminds me.

I cut him off before he can guilt me more, even though he will anyway. “I know, I know. But I can’t always make it on Saturday mornings. I promised him I'll be there for the next.”

Danny mutters an unconvinced hum and glances up at me. When he does, a smirk slants across his mouth. “What's with you? You look like crap.”

I chuckle. “Thanks a lot.”

“You do look rough,” Erin notes.

“You work a midnight?” He questions.

I swallow. “Nah.” I could use that excuse but it's too easy to invalidate if he wanted. “I wonder if Dad would mind if I went ahead and put on coffee though.” Muttering it more to myself, I turn to the coffee pot on the back counter and starting preparing a pot.

“See?” Erin notes. “After thirty, it's one big downward spiral.”

“Not me,” Danny quips. “Some of us age into our good looks. Ain't that right, Lin?”

“Sure thing, hon,” his wife calls out from the stove in the corner where she works on the sauce.

My brother carries on. “Because I live an honest life--”

I glance up with a roll of my eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“You don't see me out all hours of the night doing God knows what, missing family gatherings, can’t be bothered to shave--”

“Come on, Danny,” I duck my head away when he reaches out and knocks the back of his hand against my jaw amid Erin’s encouraging giggles. “Where have you seen me out at all hours of the night other than a late tour?”

“I haven't. But that’s the only explanation for this look--” He turns and with peeler in hand, gestures to my face. “What were you doing?”

“Nothing, jeez,” I contend as I return to the island.

“Or  _who_?” Erin murmurs before she slides a chopped carrot into her mouth and coyly averts her gaze.

My brows draw together and I can feel my eyes widen at my sister. “Wh-at?”

“Ha!” Danny coughs. “Exactly.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then I steal a piece of carrot for myself and crunch down on it.

“He thinks you have a girlfriend,” Erin provides.

“And I think I’ve narrowed it down,” my brother chimes in. “To Laura…”

My gaze narrows while I chew. “The M.E.?”

“Yep. Or--” He tilts his head side to side while he slides his chopped vegetables into the salad bowl. “That lawyer at the D.A.’s office. The cute one with the dark hair.”

Erin points to him. “Michelle. I planted that in your head. But she does have this sweet little crush on you any time you come by the courthouse.”

With a deep inhale, deciding to string Danny along about this, I fold my arms over my chest while I consider the possibilities. “Uh-huh. Where's your evidence?”

“Oh, I'm glad you asked,” He points to me. “For starters, you're way too damn happy considering the crap you gotta deal with all day--”

I scoff. “What, you want me to be depressed?”

“No, but there's been a  _change_ , and even your sergeant noticed and we don't appreciate the mystery,” Danny explains.

“Ah. Mm-hm, okay,” I muse. “Not sure that's a compelling argument.”

“Two. You got a picture on the inside of your locker at the precinct of a freakin’ sunrise on the beach. And another of a sunrise in the city from some kinda balcony--”

I can't help the amused breath that escapes with the knowing quirk of my smile. One of those, Noble took and the other, I took from his penthouse one morning and they're sort of the closest thing to him that I can have with me at work that would go unnoticed, mundane at a glance. At least I thought.

“So clearly I'm dating Laura from the M.E.’s office,” I suppose.

“I don't know but the day my kid brother has pictures hanging up of the damn sunrise is the day I start asking questions.”

“Oh, I think that's nice,” Linda speaks up.

Danny turns to regard her. “But this is Jamie we’re talking about.”

“How do you know what I have hanging in my locker?” I question.

“I got my sources.” He shrugs. “And third. I saw a pair of sunglasses in your car that no way you bought yourself. They were obviously a gift.”

“Damn.”

He points at me. “You would never buy Ray-Bans… turtle--” He turns to Erin. “What was it?”

“Tortoise shell Ray-Ban wayfarers,” she contributes. “I saw them. They're a good look but out of your price range.”

I tip my head up, letting out a disbelieving laugh. “You act like I dropped a grand on them or something.”

“Your broke ass would never is all I'm sayin’.”

“Danny--” Linda injects. “Lay off your brother.”

“Don't you agree--” Danny maintains. “That Jamie's been different? There's something going on.”

“He's not a suspect because he's happier, Danny,” she reasons.

“Yeah, Danny,” I agree. “Besides, if I had a girlfriend, why would I keep it from you?”

“Just to mess with me.”

I nod thoughtfully. “Well apparently I'm already doing a good job of that.”

“You got an alibi for Saturday morning?”

Dammit. My tired brain struggles for an excuse that doesn't involve other people he could check with, or  _does_ involve someone who'd corroborate if Danny did check. “Uh let's see. I went to the gym. I came home and ate oatmeal--”

“Alright smartass,” he dismisses while Erin laughs beside him.

“I had promised Vinny I'd help him tear out his floors,” I manage. “It took us half the day. That's why I didn't make Sean's game.” Thankfully Vinny really is renovating his kitchen because I wouldn't put it past Danny to drop in on his apartment just to check.

“Tearing out floors,” Danny confirms.

With a nod, I spread my hands as if that's all there is to it. “I'll try to act a little more hostile and bummed out, though. If it would get you off my case.”

“Thank you.”

Linda cuts in. “You two help me carry to the table.”

I reach between my siblings for the salad bowl and cut a disapproving shake of my head. “By the way, I would never date a medical examiner.”


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a reference to Jamie's pan from a fluffy pancake drabble I once posted on tumblr. I'll post a link at the bottom of the chapter since I never posted it here. :)

“Bahamas?” I question, a jealous uptick in my voice, but I smile at the notion. Propping the phone against my shoulder, I pry off the cap to a beer and drop the bottle opener back in the drawer. “Damn. Poor you.”

“I know,” Noble muses on the other end of the line. “Bianca too. We leave the 23rd and we're staying five days.”

“Nice.”

“You’ve gotta see this resort,” he tells me. “And I wish you could come. A week there at the beach with you? I'd wear your ass out.”

Exhaling hard, I nearly fail to swallow my beer as I make my way to the couch. “Now that’s the Christmas spirit.”

“It could be,” he laughs. “A Tropical Christmas Getaway like one of those Hallmark movies I swore I'd never watch but maybe watched last Sunday. We'd have to like, hate each other but we booked a room at the same resort. But they confused the reservation and now we have to share a room.”

“Oh, is that how those movies go?”

“I don't know. I've never watched one,” he replies innocently.

I hum, amused.

“I'm just guessing.”

Sighing deeply, I lean back on my couch and tip my beer to my lips. “Well. Most likely I'll be working over Christmas. And then hanging out with my dad and my grandpa. And some ham.”

“Hey, other than the work thing, that'll be relaxing,” Noble reasons.

“And thinking about you in those shorts,”  I have to add. “Now that I know what you’ll be up to.”

“The flamingo ones?”

“Preferably.”

“I'll be sure to let you know when I'm wearing them.”

“They hold a lot of good memories for me.”

He laughs. “Yeah, me too.”

“So what are you up to this weekend?”

“I am--” He sighs. “Installing a storm door on my side entry.”

“Really? No tequila and strippers?”

“It's just my bad influence boyfriend who gets me into that kind of trouble.”

“Oh yeah?” I smirk. “He sounds like bad news. You should break up with him.”

“No way. You should see him naked,” he teases. “It makes up for everything. And he's a good kisser and I love him a lot.”

Pressing my lips together, I suppress a smile and murmur, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Anything you want.”

Exhaling a soft laugh, I shake my head. I miss him so much. But thankfully, after a week apart, it's not an ache that stirs in my chest -- only every now and then -- but a content sort of longing fulfilled by the promise of him. “Well you and I both might be working on some home projects this weekend. Only mine is somebody else's.”

“What's that?”

“You know how I told you I lied in a panic to my brother and said I was helping Vinny tear out kitchen floors last weekend?” I remind him, leaning in to slide my beer bottle on the coffee table. “Well I can't live with the guilt of using him as an excuse so now I've volunteered myself to go over there and let him put me to work.”

He chuckles. “I saw that coming.”

“So that, plus nephew’s basketball game, and helping my niece with a driving lesson and I’m pretty booked.”

“Look at you. Uncle of the year, man.”

“What can I say?”

“Hey, you face danger on a daily basis, but spending the day with a sixteen year old behind the wheel in New York might be the bravest fucking thing you ever do.”

“If I don’t come back alive--” I begin with a somber dramatic pause. “I want you to have my pan.”

His loud laugh rumbles through the phone and makes me smile. “I will throw that damn pan in the river,” he threatens. “I will go to your funeral with that pan. And sob through my eulogy. And then I’ll launch that pan into the East River while they play those bagpipes and someone has to haul me away.”

Resting my head back on the couch, I crack up, rubbing my eyes in amusement.

“I don’t care that nobody even knows who I am,” he carries on. “I’ll just show up. With this rant like,  _he never lived up to his domestic potential! Sure he may have saved my life. But at night… he went home to his one pan that he got at Target when he was nineteen_ \--”

“I got that pan at a yard sale.”

“I’m hanging up,” he huffs in aggravation. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“It's a perfectly functional pan,” I insist.

“We really are breaking up,” he grumbles. “You let me eat eggs out of that yard sale pan.”

“And you lived to tell about it.”

“You say you love me, but look at you.”

My cheeks hurt, I'm laughing so hard. I push my hand up my face, rubbing the ache and let out a heavy exhale. “I'll win you back.”

“God,” he whispers despite his chuckles. “You're a disaster.”

“But a good kisser, though,” I remind him.

A little gravelly him rumbles from his throat. “Yeah I guess I'll hang onto you.”

“Okay good, because--” I pause to clear my throat, adjusting on the couch. “I have something I want to run by you.”

“Alright.”

“How would you feel if I told my sister about us?”

“Really?”

“I was thinking about it.”

“I uh--” Then he breathes out this nervous laugh. “I mean, that's up to you.”

“Well I know. But how you feel about it matters.”

“In a perfect world,” he begins. “Everyone would know and we'd just... go on with our lives like normal people. In a relationship.”

“Right.”

He's apprehensive when he asks, “What do you think she'll say?”

I consider it over a deep breath. “She'll have her concerns. And doubts. But I think ultimately she'll understand and maybe help me get some perspective about how the rest of my family is going to take it.”

A quiet pause hangs there for a moment. “I guess I just worry… that, I don't know, she'll convince you that this is one big mistake, or to end it before anyone else finds out.”

“She might try,” I reason. “But she's not going to say anything I haven't already thought about.”

Noble simply hums in thoughtful agreement.

“I have no intentions of ending it,” I assure him. “Okay? But once I tell Erin, I have to be ready to tell everybody. Because I can't really ask her to keep it quiet for too long.”

“I don't know your sister so I can't predict anything,” he says. “But I trust you. And you're all I want.”

A soft smile curves along my lips. “You got me,” I tell him. “I come with a lot though. And I want you to be a part of all of it.”

* * *

 

[Pancake Drabble](https://ontherockswithsalt.tumblr.com/post/178497915447/can-you-write-some-joble-fluff-the-upcoming-new)


	26. Chapter 26

“I'm just happy you didn't lean over and make a scene honking the horn.” Nicky leads me into her apartment after our Saturday morning drive, loosening her scarf as we approach the kitchen.

“I heard that!” Erin chimes in. From her perch on a stool at the island countertop, she lifts her gaze from her laptop.

“Mom, it's so embarrassing,” Nicky insists and I chuckle to myself, slipping my hands into the pockets of my jeans. “It's like you have no chill. The light turns green and you're jumping down everyone's throat.”

Erin takes a moment to blink hard and look over at me. “It's like I have no chill, Jamie,” she muses, considering the phrase.

I smirk. “Well we all know that.”

“And you think your uncle does, huh?”

She laughs. “Compared to you, mom? Uh yeah.”

“Yeah well, being  _chill_ won't make you a competent, alert driver,” Erin reasons. “And that's my priority for you right now.”

“She did great.” I decide to diffuse this back-and-forth. “She just needs to get more comfortable committing to a left turn. But that takes practice.”

Erin manages a satisfied nod. “Alright, good.”

“So can I meet Olivia at Cafe Lalo?” Nicky turns and charms her mom with a wide grin.

“Do you have money?”

“Yes.”

“If I give you a little extra, will you bring me back a macaron?” My sister wonders as she slides off her stool makes her way to her kitchen table.

Nicky laughs. “Of course.”

“I mean, gosh, it's so  _chill_ of me to let you go,” she teases before she pulls a bill from her wallet and meets Nicky with it.

My niece merely manages to return the amused look, playing it smart to refrain from commenting on that if she wants to have her way. “Pistachio?”

“Please.”

“What about you, Uncle Jamie? Anything?”

“No thanks. I'm good.”

“You got your phone?” Erin asks.

“Yes.”

“Your metro card?”

“I'm walking,” Nicky answers. “But yes.”

“Be careful. The Christmas shoppers are out in full force and it makes everyone crazy.”

She hadn't bothered to take her coat off, so she simply fishes her fuzzy earmuffs out of her bag. “I got it. If we go anywhere else, I'll text you.”

“Have fun,” Erin murmurs.

After a squeeze on my arm, Nicky calls out, “Thanks again, Jamie” and heads for the door.

My sister and I are left there in the kitchen and she regards me as if to question my jacket if I'm going to stay.

“Thanks for spending your morning with her,” she offers.

“Of course.”

“Want to stay for some coffee? Or have you got things to do?”

“Uh. Yeah. I'll take some coffee.”

She looks at me again. “Everything alright with you?”

“Mm-hm.” I press my lips together.

Giving me a slow, skeptical nod, she busies herself at the coffee pot against the wall. “Well you look better than you did last weekend. Guess you got some sleep.”

“Thanks,” I laugh softly.

“Is the pacing necessary?” she glances back at me while she scoops the grounds into the filter. “Maybe you don't need coffee.”

I look down at my boots. I didn't even realize I couldn't keep still.

“Pull up a chair.”

With an exhale, I manage a half smile and move to take off my leather jacket, leaving it on the back of a chair at her kitchen table. Tugging the sleeves of my blue sweater up my forearms, I pull out a stool for myself at her counter.

After clearing my throat, I drum my fingers there on the granite. “So how are you?” I attempt, but she's not having my casual inquiry.

“Working on a Saturday,” she nods over to her computer. “That's how I am. How's work going with you?”

Tilting my head, I answer with a shrug. “Alright.”

“And your non-work life?”

Propping my elbows on the countertop, I run my hand across my mouth and rest it there while I blink my gaze someplace far away for a minute. I don't say anything. The sinking feeling in my gut reminds me that this is it. I acknowledge this to my sister out loud and it's more than real.

She patiently accepts the quiet longer than I expect her to. Then she rounds the island and reclaims her seat on the stool beside me. “Is there something on your mind?”

I drop one hand to turn and look at her and pressing my lips together, I just nod.

Her eyes search my face a moment, as if trying to discern what the big fucking drama is about. “Can… you talk about it?” She asks, slowly.

“I want to,” I finally decide.

“So talk.”

With a deep inhale, I ease back. “Last weekend when you and Danny were giving me a hard time about dating someone, you weren't wrong.”

Erin simply lets a smirk curve on her face and one intrigued eyebrow jumps. As she turns to close the lid of her laptop, she pulls off her glasses. “Oh?”

“I've been seeing someone… for a few months now.”

“Well that's great.”

I just manage another vague nod. In my head, this was a lot easier. I had run through this conversation with my sister for days and I know I just need to fucking say it. The more I drag it out, the more I heighten the shock value and that's not what I want at all.

Smiling, she reaches out and jabs my arm. “Why are you being evasive? What's the big deal?”

“His name’s Nick.” The confession leaves me in an exhale but then my breath stills. It takes a moment before I can find it again when I look at her.

Erin’s lips part, but instead of saying anything, she presses them back together and her eyes widen in some sort of pleased surprise.

“Don't--”

“Jamie!”

“Don't look at me like that.” I mutter, glancing away to fight the flicker of amusement I can't help but feel.

She pushes a reassuring palm against the side of my leg. “Tell me about him!”

I finally work up a deep breath. This is the difficult part. Do I tell her all about him, about Noble, and some enamored description of him? Charm her with him and then drop the next bomb? Or do I put it all out there at once and get it over with?

“There's a lot to tell,” I offer.

She nods faintly, her otherwise dark gaze lit up with her a hopeful smile. I can tell she’s treading with caution, not wanting to grill me too hard in case I shut down. “Okay. Well--” She moves to get off her stool and heads to the coffee pot as it finishes brewing. “I'm here. That's what coffee and sisters are for.” Then she flashes a perfect, baiting grin over her shoulder before she reaches for a set of mugs.

I feel one cheek pull up when I can't fight the start of a smile and I lean in to rest my arms on the counter.

“Your face!” She announces after sneaking another glance at me. “I can't take it. Please tell me everything.”

“Oh god,” I groan.

“Where is Nick  _from_? What does Nick  _do_? Is he funny? Is he tall?”

“Alright--”

“You said a few months,” she wonders. “That's kind of a lot.”

“Yeah the whole thing’s a lot,” I say. “I haven't even told you the shocking part.”

With an intrigued eyebrow, Erin turns around, setting my prepared mug in front of me. “Okay. Shock me, then.”

I kill time with a sip of the hot coffee and figure at this point, I might as well tell her everything. I clear my throat. “I met him last year as a UC. He uh… testified for federal prosecution after I worked with OCCB--”

“He was a witness in a racketeering trial?”

I let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. And now he's in WitSec in Miami with his sister.”

Erin's mouth opens as she closes her eyes to process this information. After a moment, she looks at me, a critical line drawn between her brows. “Sanfino.”

Nodding over the rim of my mug, I go for another sip. “Yep.”

“I remember that. His uncle. Or his father…” She narrows her gaze, attempting to recall the facts. “Weren't there murder charges?”

“Yeah.”

She straightens up and holds out one hand as if to wonder where the fuck to even start. “Wait--” Then she just stammers the beginnings of multiple questions. “He's… How did--”

“I feel like I should draft an e-mail,” I muse. “And let you sit with that and if you have any questions, you can contact me.”

“You think this is funny, Jamie?”

“No, I don't think this is funny.” My brow furrows. “This is the hardest thing I've ever told anybody. Because the potential for fallout is huge. Don't you think I know that?” Glancing down, I absently turn the coffee mug on the countertop and stare into it for a moment. “You know, I thought I had my life pretty mapped out. More or less. A lot has happened to affect it at certain points, y'know? But nothing like this. I never expected to meet someone who'd change everything.”

My sister just looks at me, crossing over to return to her seat with her own drink.

Thoughtfully, my mouth quirks and I pause a minute to consider my own words. “That's the thing, though, I haven't changed,” I go on to explain. “I'm still me. I'm still the same person--”

“I know you are,” she offers softly.

“But… he… this relationship has altered whatever that course was. I think that's fair to say.” My breath stops short and I clench my back teeth until I feel the almost satisfying flex of my jaw in response and I breathe again. “And I'm okay with that. And I want you to be okay with that.”

“Jamie--” She starts, and the way she says my name sinks through my heart for a moment. “I love you. And I want you to be happy.”

Anticipating a  _but--_  I swallow some more coffee and wait for it.

“You have to know, though, that there will be questions.”

“I know--”

“And doubt. And apprehension.”

A slight, absent nod bobs my chin.

“And possibly… altogether refusal.”

Sitting with that, I don’t say anything. I know. I’ve run through every possible scenario between my dad, my grandpa, my brother, and me, fully understanding that one or all of them could decide _for me_  the direction of this relationship. With a one-sentence order. 

So when my sister acknowledges that there are people out there who would refuse to accept this relationship, it’s a truth I’ve known, but one that sounds more real when it comes from her.

“Have you told anyone else?” She wonders.

“Vinny.”

She smiles. “Really?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “And Nick's sister.” I tell myself to get used to that as his name around other people. I sort of am by now, but it still feels weird. Ultimately, if we were going to have any kind of real life together, here or there or wherever, that's who he'd have to be. To me, he'd always be Noble though.

“I'm not discrediting your concerns,” I assure her. “Trust me I'm aware… of how screwed up this all sounds.”

“Not screwed up,” she says. “But dangerous.”

“Potentially.”

She considers it for a moment over a sip of coffee. Pressing her lips together, she looks at me, a little twitch at her cheek. “Well what does he look like?”

A soft laugh blows out of me. It feels good for her to at least humor me with a normal question even though I know she has a hundred more serious ones. “You wanna see a picture?”

With a grin she leans closer to me. “Yes.”

I regard her with an amused smirk as I shift and pull my phone from my pocket. I unlock the screen and flick through to find a picture I took of him on the balcony of the penthouse. He's angled, forearms against the railing over the neighborhood below but I happened to catch his genuine smile as he turned to look at me.

I offer the phone screen and she moves in to peer down at it.

Drawing in a quick breath, her eyes light up as she studies the picture. “Ooh…”

“Alright.” I quickly cut her off, leaning away as I darken the screen.

She laughs. “He's cute!”

“I know,” I remark with an easy shrug and slip my phone onto the counter.

Feeling the heat in my cheeks, I glance away when I see her cut her amused eyes to me over another sip of coffee.

She sets down her mug and leans into the counter on her elbow, resting her head in her hand. “So you gonna walk me through your timeline? Because I'm definitely curious how you managed to reunite with this this guy you were never supposed to see again.”


	27. Chapter 27

“I’m gonna be pissed if it’s broken. Is it broken?” I wonder, propping the phone between my ear and shoulder as I drag a retractable blade across the top of the box that I had come home to the day before.

“I don’t know,” Noble chuckles. “I can only see something sitting propped up against my door. I just pulled in the driveway.  Don’t open yours yet!”

“Alright.” My shoulders lift and I leave the box there on my coffee table without peering inside. “I’m excited, okay?”

“Were you the kind of kid who tore through like, five presents on Christmas morning before anyone realized you weren’t waiting for everyone else to take turns?”

I grin, pacing over to the living room window. “No. Are you kidding? That was Danny.”

“Oh, right right,” Noble muses. “Then you probably took the longest because you’d open one thing and be immediately obsessed with it, reading the instructions or whatever and couldn’t bring yourself to move on to the next one.”

“What is this analysis of my personality? I thought you were just using me for my body.”

“For the most part I am. But then I went and fell in love with you.”

“Rookie mistake,” I mutter. “And yes, that’s exactly how I was.”

“Alright, there’s a box,” he lists. “And then another like, big rectangle thing here from you.”

“Okay, I just hope the rectangle thing’s not broken.”

“We’ll find out.” He manages and I can hear him move to get everything inside the house.

A few weeks ago, Noble and I had briefly considered not exchanging gifts for Christmas. The _oh no, I don’t need anything_  excuses didn’t last long, though once the season really hit and we both just sort of gave in to the temptation. Usually gift buying stresses me out. It’s too much pressure. My rational conscious always overanalyzes whether something is practical or necessary, or something they already have, or something they wouldn’t use, and it takes the fun out of the whole process. But this year, I couldn’t help but get excited. Figuring out something Noble would like was fun for me and it had been a long time since I’d put that much sentimental effort into getting a gift for someone.

Once I found out he was going on vacation over the holiday, I scrambled to get everything shipped in time for him to open it before he left.

“So am I opening yours, or are you opening mine first?” He wonders, then decides, “Open one of mine.”

Amused, I make my way back over to the coffee table and assess the contents of the large box he sent, pulling out the brown packing paper. “Okay, I’m opening the big one.” Inside are three wrapped gifts and a card. “And I'm putting you on speaker.”

Sitting on the couch, I pull the wide, shallow gift box onto my lap and begin to tear off its pine green paper. I take off the lid, move aside the tissue paper and find a black canvas, almost tactical looking backpack. “Oh  _sweet_.”

“Is that the backpack?”

“Yeah man.”

“I thought it'd be good for all that weekend traveling.”

“To visit my side-piece poolboy? It's perfect.”

“Hey, it's lawnboy not poolboy. There's a difference,” he corrects. “And I'm making a mental note because side-piece lawnboy is definitely some role play I'm down for.”

“Yeah, same here,” I muse while I inspect the zippered pockets. “Hey believe it or not, the backpack I've been using I've had since college so--”

“Oh I'm in total shock, sweetheart,” he deadpans.

I have to laugh. “But this one is way better. Thank you.”

“You're welcome.”

“Open one from me,” I instruct. “And there’s one in there for Bianca. Just… if you want to give that to her when you see her.”

He utters this rumbling “Aww--”

“Yeah, yeah,” I sigh.

“That’ll mean a lot. That’s sweet.”

“It’s like an etched, stemless wine glass and I put a bunch of red Starburst in it, so--”

“God,” he exhales, almost miffed. “You little shit. You’re gonna make me have feelings for you.”

I smirk. “Hopefully that one didn’t break either.”

“And hey, she drinks wine out of a coffee mug, so that’ll be a definite upgrade. She'll love it. I’ll make sure she gets it before we head to the airport tomorrow.”

“Alright, good. Now open one of yours. The big rectangle.”

“You mean the broken one?”

I panic. “It's broken?”

With a soft chuckle he assures me, “I'm kidding. No I don't think so.” Then I hear him go to work pulling off the paper until it's quiet for a second.

“Oh hey now--” He starts. “It's your neighborhood. Did you take this picture?”

“Yes.”

“And you had it framed. Dude, this is dope,” he raves in almost this sing-song. “I love it so much.”

“Good.” I sit back on my couch and think about the photograph, blown up to sixteen-by-twenty, that I thought would make a cool print for his house. “A little Brooklyn for you down in Miami.”

“Well when I really need some Brooklyn down in Miami, I'll get your ass a plane ticket.”

“Since you can't hang my ass up in your living room, that might be a better alternative.”

“Look at you,” he muses. “With the photography skills. I love that street, by the way. Damn, that's some homesick shit I wasn't ready for.”

The historic district where I live, with all it's charming pre-war rowhouses and quiet streets, looks good captured in black and white. Down my block, it's only a short walk to the promenade that stretches along the East River where we had roamed around a little one morning the last time he was here.

“Your turn,” Noble speaks up. “Open another one.”

“There's a card here--”

“No-no-no, open that later. Don't open that on the phone with me. It's gross.”

With a pleased little smile, looking forward to reading that on my own, I set the sealed envelope aside. “Mmkay. I'll do this medium-sized one.”

“Don't give me a hard time about it,” he warns. “I  _think_ I have a firm grasp on what kind of nerd you are but--”

“Hey,” I groan in protest as I tear open the package. “You got a complaint?”

“No, you didn't hear me complain--”

“Oh good because I was about to tell you where you can put it.”

“You can always tell me where to put it, Jamie.”

Tilting my head back, I dig my teeth into my bottom lip and take a moment to appreciate him. “Are you really about to leave the country for five days? Because I… miss you in such a dumbass way.”

His laugh through the phone makes me smile as I finish pulling off the paper. “I miss you regardless.”

“Yeah but you'll be off swimming with dolphins and snorkeling or whatever and too busy to remember me suffering in this city at Christmas time.”

He scoffs. “Oh please. Don't you know me at all? I'll be day drinking and taking naps on the beach.”

“Strangely, that's a hotter visual for me,” I reason. “Okay I'm opening this. Let's see what kind of nerd you think I am.” Tearing open the package, I inspect the rattling box, my eyebrows lifting eagerly. “A wooden fractal puzzle? Hell yes, bro.”

On the other end of the line, he cracks up. “That thing looks like torture, so if you want nothing to do with it, I understand--”

“No way, man. I'm gonna do it right now.” After I pull off the plastic wrapping, I examine the intricately cut geometric looking design on the lid.

“If nothing else, it'll look cool on your coffee table.”

“I really do like it though,” I decide.

“Well good.”

“Now do the bigger one from me.”

“Alright,” he agrees.

“You’re gonna give me shit about this one,” I preface while I hear him tear the paper. “But I know you don’t have one and I’m kind of upset about it.”

After a moment, he laughs. “You got me a flashlight.” He states it with amusement more than curiosity.

“Because you’ve said before you don’t even have one. Which I can’t believe considering you live in a damn hurricane capital--”

“And you sent batteries with it!” Then he groans, “Ugh, you’re cute.”

“I’m  _prepared_.”

“This is a pretty badass Maglite, though.”

“There’s more,” I tell him.

“Oh my god,” he mutters as I hear him shift around the paper inside the box to find it. “Is this a fucking Swiss Army knife?” And then he cackles one of his loud laughs that triggers one of mine.

“Hey, you needed one of those too!”

“Oh, who’s gonna fuck with me now?” He teases.

“Nobody when you’re carrying that piece.”

“I’ve never had one of these,” he says and I can tell he’s inspecting it. “Shit, this thing’s kind of intense. Out on the town and need a screwdriver? Check. Carving wood on the go? Check.”

“You can gut a fish with it,” I suggest.

“With a blade like that? Good lord,” he laughs.

“I'm just saying you  _could_. If you had to.”

“You fucking savage,” he murmurs and the low note in that accusation makes my lips twitch. “I’ll leave that to you when we up and move to the frontier.”

I glance down with a satisfied smile. “Mmkay. Well we've got a flashlight and a puzzle. So let's go.”

“The last present for you is very important, then,” he notes. “It'll come in handy when we’re in the wilderness.”

“Oh jeez.” I take out the remaining package from him. Pulling off the paper reveals a black and red metal canister with little silver hearts all over it. “Sexy Truth or Dare?” I question him and just hearing me saying it elicits another heavy chuckle from him.

“Hell yeah.”

I shake my head with a laugh as I give it a glance and screw off the top. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You wanna play?”

I consider it. “Next time you’re here, maybe.” My answer is murmured absently since I’ve already started to pull out the flat sticks printed with the various prompts.  _“If you had to choose between only oral sex or only penetrative sex for the rest of your life_ ,” I recite, “ _which one would you pick?_ ”

Noble can only answer with a disapproving groan.

I continue, pulling out another one. “ _What is the largest age gap you’ve had between you and someone you’ve had sex with?_ ”

His next groan is even louder. “Oh shit--”

“Ha!” I cough. “ _Do you know the last name of everyone you’ve had sex with?_ ”

“Damn!” I can hear the grimace in his voice and it cracks me up. “I feel attacked.”

I let out a weary moan and rub my eyes. “Oh man, I’m gonna get answers to so many things I never wanted to know.”

“Wait, read a dare. I’m way better at those.”

Clearing my throat, I flip the sticks over that I had pulled out. “ _Do your best to make me orgasm in the next five minutes--_ ”

“Easy. I could do that from here.”

“Mm-hm,” I hum, before I read the next. “ _Fuck me in a room where we’ve never had sex before._ ”

“Oh-ho! Now we’re talking.”

“That’s hard. I don’t have many rooms.”

“Next time you’re here, we’ll go do it at Bianca’s place while she’s at work.”

“Nice.” The I pull out another one. “Wait a minute.  _Pretend you’re a cop and arrest me for the crime of being too sexy--_ ”

He shouts another laugh. “Yes, please. I’ve always wanted to.”

“We’ll see if I let you.”

Gradually, his amusement tapers off and he lets out a heavy sigh. “Those are hilarious.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty good,” I agree.

“If I come up there and we get snowed in, we can have a game night.”

“I like that.” Clearing away some of the wrapping from my couch, I move to consolidate all the unwrapped gifts on my table.

“Well thank you,” he starts. “For my awesome presents. I love everything.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for mine,” I tell him, getting up to take some of the trash to my kitchen, bringing the phone with me. “You all ready to leave tomorrow?”

“Pretty much. It’s like an hour flight. And then it should be a pretty chill few days.”

“Take lots of pictures.”

“Of me in a lounge chair? Alright I will.”

“I wouldn’t turn those down.” I smile. “But it is Christmas, so I hope you’ll be more generous than that when it comes to the pictures you send me.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the note Noble wrote in his Christmas card to Jamie.

_J--_

_You’ll never convince me that I didn’t already know you before that first night we met._

_On some level, in some universe, I’m positive I did. I think, long before that moment (when I saved your life... let’s not forget you almost got your ass beat by a high school lacrosse player if my intimidating/handsome self hadn’t stepped in), some piece of me belonged to you in a way neither of us can quite define. I know that kills you -- someone who needs evidence and concrete definitions. So I hope that abstract possibility annoys you for all eternity._

_But I’m certain that you were meant to be a part of me in some way. Sometimes I think about who I am without you. And I’m not going to sit here and soul-search in a Christmas card and tell you that without you I’m empty or whatever. Because that sucks. I think there was this decent balance that I achieved. It took a while to find it, to settle this erratic heart of mine and jumpstart what I thought was a defeated life. And here you come and flip it completely around so that it finally makes sense. You provoke my heart, but you calm my soul and that’s some fucking poetry and I don’t have any White-Out so looks like that’s staying there in this card forever._

_I fucking love you, dude. And I’m sorry I said fuck twice (3x?) in a Christmas card. I miss you, I hope the holidays are good to you and your family, and I can’t wait to see you._

_All yours,_

_\--N_


	29. Chapter 29

“I feel like we gotta go Chinese on Christmas, yeah?” Vinny proposes.

I consider the lunch option as the two of us make our way up the sidewalk at Seventh Avenue. Vinny and I had agreed to take a Christmas Day shift and neither of us really mind. So far it’s an easy morning – pleasant, cold but clear – the holiday settling the city.

Working on Christmas when I don’t really have other commitments at home is actually kind of fun. The energy in the city changes once the chaotic lead-up to the holiday subsides, crowds disperse, and what’s left is a classic Manhattan that’s festive and at ease. For a morning, at least. It won’t be long before people start drinking and estranged family members are reminded that they hate each other and we start getting calls.

“Dim sum?” I ask. “That place in Hell’s Kitchen?”

“Yeah, brother,” Vinny agrees with an eager clap of his hands before he rubs them together. “So what’s your family’s game plan on Christmas?”

Stepping off the curb, I round the front of our patrol car and head for the driver’s side. “I saw everybody last night. And I might go over to my dad’s later on,” I tell him as I settle into the car and adjust my radio. “I think he’s down at the Bowery Mission with the mayor today.”

“Look at that.” He pulls on his seat belt beside me. “The PC putting the rest of you Reagans to shame.”

“Yeah, I know.” I smirk, pulling away to start up the block. “Hey, I’m being a good Samaritan today.”

“You did help that delivery guy change the chain on his bike.”

“See?” I chuckle. “So what about you? How are the Cruz festivities up in Washington Heights?”

“Bro–” He manages a weary groan. “We all went to my aunt’s last night after Mass and I’m feeling it today. My sisters gave me a hard time for going home after one drink but I had to get some sleep.”

“One year I’ll have to party with you guys. It sounds way more fun than what goes down at my house.”

“Oh we get rowdy, man. And if you win the dance-off against my nieces and nephews, you can open the first present.”

Amused by the visual, I shake my head, always appreciating the stories Vinny has of his big family, growing up the only boy among four sisters.

“But I’ll probably head over to my mom’s later and see about any leftover tamales and call it a day.”

“Sounds good to me,” I muse, scanning the block for a place to park as we roll along Forty-Ninth.

Stuffed eggplant and spring rolls make for fine holiday meal. And after grabbing two green teas to go, Vinny and I make our way out of the sleepy restaurant.

I feel my phone buzz and I take a moment to retrieve it before I sink down into the car. Clicking open the message, I see it’s from Noble.

**Noble** : _I know you’re working but can I call real quick? 2 minutes._

“Hang on,” I mutter aloud while I text him back the go-ahead. “Let me take this call.”

Settling back, Vinny flips open his memo book. “Sure thing, man.”

After a second, my phone rings and I clear my throat to answer it, glancing out my driver’s side window. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“ _My_ man!” He greets and the effortless, happy sound of it rouses a warmth in my chest. “You got a minute?”

“Sure. Just finished up lunch.”

“What was Christmas Day lunch on the streets today?”

“We hit up Buddha Kitchen,” I tell him. “And it was a good decision.”

He lets out a needy, wistful groan. “Dude, I’m jealous. AirDrop me some crystal dumplings.”

“Will do.”

“Well listen,” he starts. “What if I had the chance to get in a trip to New York after I get back from the beach? Would I be able to see you?”

“Really?” I wonder with this hopeful note that I notice piques Vinny’s attention. “Uh yeah I think so. So what, like New Year’s?”

“The 29th and 30th.”

Pondering that Saturday, I scratch my jaw and silently remind myself not to let my mind start spinning over how badly I want to see him. “We could do that,” I reason. “That’s good. I gotta work New Year’s Eve anyway.”

“Ugh yikes,” he grumbles his quick sympathy. “Also. What if Bianca came with me?”

I consider it, dragging my teeth along my lower lip. I merely hum a pensive, “Huh.”

“We’d stay at the Greenwich. I’m not asking to crash with you or anything–”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just… surprised she’d be ready for that.”

“She says she is,” he offers. “Think about it. In terms of, y’know the risk. I’m not pulling the trigger on tickets just yet. But tonight, maybe we could figure it out.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“So Saturday works though?” He verifies. “We could have like… our own early New Year’s.”

An unguarded smile hints the corner of my mouth and I turn my head with a casual glance out the window. “Alright.”

“Is Vinny right there?” He wonders.

“Yeah we’re in the RMP–”

“ _MERRY CHRISTMAS, VINNY!_ ” Noble shouts through the phone, so loud I have to angle it away.

I blink hard and tell my partner, “Nick says hi.”

“Yo what up, Nick!” Vinny glances up from the report he was writing to lean closer.

“Alright, I’ll let you go,” Noble says. “We’ll talk more tonight–”

“Sounds good.”

“If you know–”

“No–” I warn.

“–What I mean.”

I sigh, managing to clear my throat before any heat creeps into my face.

He goes on, “What are you wearing?”

“Alright–”

Noble laughs, pleased with himself. “Fine. I’ll go. I know what you’re wearing but I’ll ask you again later. And I’m sending you a work-safe picture, by the way.”

“Don’t you need to go lay in a hammock or something?”

“I do. I’m late for hammock time.”

With a chuckle, I scratch my nose and glance down at my lap. “Talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

Ending the call, I put my phone away and tilt the warm paper cup of tea to my lips.

“How’s your boy?” Vinny asks.

“He’s good. Christmas in the Bahamas. Guess he can’t complain.”

“So this witness protection life. He’s got no parents, no cousins, nothing? Just him and his sister.”

I scan the block out the windshield and shift back against the seat. “Yep. His mother died when he was a kid. Dad’s in federal prison in West Virginia doing a life sentence.”

“Damn,” Vinny muses. “Murder?”

“Murder for hire. Conspiracy, fraud, extortion,” I list. “Quite the renaissance man.”

“The works, huh?”

Nodding in agreement, I take a quiet moment to think about Noble and mentally will him to feel it. It’s this strange practice I do every now and then because I swear, at random moments in the day, there’s a heavy squeeze and I feel it someplace deeper than my core. And without analyzing it too hard, I simply tell myself it’s him thinking about me.

“You meet the guy?”

I swallow another gulp of tea. “I never met his father. I met his uncle though, and I’m pretty sure he got a similar sentence.”

“Was his dad a mob boss for real?” He questions.

Here and there, Vinny’s managed to draw out pieces of information from me with regard to that case, purely out of his own curiosity. I’ve talked about Noble enough to him that the shock value of his whole back story has worn off. I mean hell, the two of them shout  _hellos_ to each other through the phone. So by now, it’s only natural that Vinny knows how deep my boyfriend’s criminal ties run.

“His dad was up there. He was a captain,” I explain. “So technically not a  _boss_ if you’re talking hierarchy. But–”

“Like, that’s some real gangster mafioso shit, Reagan.”

I scoff in amusement. “Yeah.”

“ _La Cosa Nostra_.”

I laugh again. “I mean, I don’t think it was that heavy. Not like old school Italian mob–”

“But they tried to kill you.”

“Well, yeah. And him.”

“And Nick’s just clean,” he supposes. “Nothing? No record. He’s on the up and up?”

“It’s fair to say he probably… participated in plenty of shady business. Whether he really knew it or not,” I acknowledge. “He said growing up, he didn’t have the attention span and the vindictiveness in him to be of much use to the family like that.”

Vinny hums a good-natured chuckle.

“So he’d distract himself or let other people get their hands dirty and hope it kept him on the fringe of it all.”

He blinks with a nod as he seems to process it.

I sniff a soft laugh. “Does his whole situation make you uneasy?”

He shrugs. “No I mean, you wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t solid. I do wanna meet the guy though.”

“He’ll be here this weekend.”

Vinny reaches out to smack my shoulder with the back of his hand. “So we should hang out.”

I turn and look at my partner to consider it. Drawing in a deep inhale, I have to laugh a little, my nerves not exactly settling at the idea.

He grins. “Come on, let’s all go out.  _Can_ he go out?”

Just then my phone buzzes once more and I remember Noble promised to send me a picture. Normally, I wouldn’t take a look until my tour was over. But he assured me it’d be innocent, plus it’s a quiet day on the radio and I miss him, so I check it out.

“He can,” I answer while I swipe the screen. “We’ve just gotta be sort of strategic about where we go.”

“Alright,” Vinny agrees.

The picture he sends makes a half smile curve on my face and I shake my head. “They’re such dorks,” I mutter.

“Let me see.”

I tilt my phone screen toward Vinny to show him the picture. Noble – with sunglasses on and the end of a candy cane between his teeth like a cigar – and Bianca wearing a Santa hat with an exaggerated wink leaning into one another by the pool.

Vinny coughs an appreciative laugh. “Tell them to hook us up with the invite next time.”

“Yeah really. Well if you’re free on Saturday, we can all go out for drinks or something–”

“Now wait a minute.” He stops me from pulling my phone away and angles closer. “You told me about the sister but you didn’t  _tell me about the sister_.”

I hiss a soft laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He just tilts his head and looks up at me, his forehead creased as if I should know exactly what it means.

I cut a skeptical glance his way. “N-No-no-no–”

With a hopeful twitch of his eyebrow, he wonders, “Is she coming too?”

“Vin– don’t even–”

“Hey look–” He fakes a contemplative gaze at his own phone. “I’m free this Saturday.”


	30. Chapter 30

“Where's Bianca?”

I break off of Noble's mouth in my entryway long enough to ask while I'm unbuttoning my own jeans.

He exhales hard, tossing his jacket to the floor. “At the penthouse.”

I scoff before I let another kiss fall on his lips and I laugh there. “What, you just ditched her?”

“You wanted her to tag along? Are you fucking kidding me?” Grabbing for my waist, he dips his hand past the open zipper, along the front of my underwear as we stumble through the apartment. “I'd love to know what you'd have done with  _this_.” The way he growls his accusation as he gropes my straining shaft gets me so damn hot and I urge myself against him. “God,” he whispers. “You're so fucking hard. Why are you wearing all this?”

“I wasn't sure!” I contend, grasping the buckle on his belt as we move toward my couch. “Your text just said you were on your way over--”

“Yeah that means _get naked_.”

“No  _hi_? No _I love you_? No  _How've you been_?” I tease before I step back and tug off the long sleeved shirt I wear.

“Oh really?” Noble tilts his head to question me. As he pulls off his own shirt, I start to urge him down to the couch but he fights off my advances, swiping my arm away. “No. Your bed.”

With an arched brow, I smirk up at him, then lift my hands as if to surrender and comply.

He steps toward me and grasps my face, tilting it to lay soft lips on mine.

My touch drops to the back of his head and I hold him to me. The tension beneath my skin begins to unwind and I let out a helpless sigh against his mouth.

Falling off my kiss he murmurs softly, “Hi. I love you.”

Humming a soft laugh, I brush another kiss there.

“How've you been--?”

“Okay you're done.” I cut him off.

“Go.” He pushes against my chest and turns me out of the living room. “And put your hands in the air again. I liked that.”

Without looking back, I hold up my hands as I make my idle way toward the bedroom.

I hear the restrained grunt from him as he takes a second to get the rest of his clothes off and then trails behind me. “You've been working those rows. Damn boy,” he calls out.

Amused at his appreciation, I turn to look at him, reaching down where my jeans and boxers hang low and start to push them further down. “What, my back? Come get a better look--”

His heavy steps make him crash into me from behind by the time I get everything off. He grasps the bend in one elbow to pull me against him. “You may not like what I wanna do to it though.” His mouth heats my skin, exhaling at the back of my neck, teeth grazing my shoulder when he reaches around to close his fist around my stiff cock.

He groans, treating me to the all-over stroke of his hand, down beneath my balls, then hard up my shaft. His unapologetic, eager touch makes my eyes fall closed and I tip my head back with a heavy exhale at the sensation.

“I'm pretty sure I'll like anything you do to me,” I tell him, my hand finding his insistent hard-on behind my hip. There I play with him, but he barely gives me the chance before he breathes out hot and impatient, steps back and urges me onto the bed.

My knees sink into the mattress. Reaching back, up around his head, I guide him with me, raking fingers into his hair. I tug him closer until I feel his mouth on the pulsing, sensitive path of my neck.

He nips his teeth there, flicks his tongue, and bites one more time until I exhale a broken breath. Then he hums a throaty laugh when I pull on his hair to keep him from leaving a mark.

“Sorry. You taste good,” he rasps and leaves my neck with one more kiss before he moves back.

In a quick move, he pushes me over and I catch myself on my forearms. Digging my forehead into the covers of my bed, I suck air into my chest when his palms drag down the back of my hips and he helps himself to a needy squeeze of my ass. The way he sighs when he does, low and approving and driven entirely by his want for me makes my cock fucking ache I want him so bad.

And when he moves in and strokes his tongue between the parted cheeks of my ass, I muffle a groan into my comforter and tilt back against him.

“Ahh, fuck.  _Fuck_.” Lowering closer to the bed, I grasp my own shaft and push against the friction beneath me.

Noble follows closer, the pressure of his tongue damn near making me fall apart. I figured his lack of patience would have him moving on to fuck me any minute now, that this was just a tease, but he keeps going. His movements so perfectly --  _infuriatingly_  -- controlled, have me just the opposite and he knows it.

I grasp at a fistful of the covers, moving against his mouth and into my own hand. Exhaling hard, I practically cough out a laugh, it feels so unbelievable. “Mm,  _god_. Noble,” I whisper. “That's so good. Fuck, you're gonna make me come-- Yes--”

My praise gets lost in another desperate groan when he adds the slow circle of the tip of one finger along the slick path his tongue made. My fist closes harder and I call out, air seizing in my lungs for moment.

The release pulses through me, tension gripping my senses until I shatter. I’m quick, I know, but I can’t help it when it’s been a while and he knows exactly what makes me crazy.

There's hardly a lull after Noble finishes me off and he shifts behind me.

“Oh my god,” I mumble into the sheets. My muscles slack, all I can do is stretch across the bed on my stomach.

I hear his rumbling chuckle. “Damn I missed you.” Then he groans this loud sigh and I glance back over my shoulder to see him with the bottle of lube from my nightstand. He strokes his thick cock in his own hand as he comes back to kneel on the bed.

My own soft laugh thuds in my chest and I start to ease up. “Yeah well I still miss you. Get back over here--”

With a firm grasp, he yanks me closer and lowers his weight against me until I tip over once more. It only takes a moment of slow teasing at my opening before he starts to guide his length inside of me.

I close my eyes, holding onto a breath. It's always this abrupt intensity that overtakes me when he starts to fill me -- until I can gain control, something I’ve come to manage pretty easily with him.

And once I do, Noble halts his movements for just a second. This shaky, loud moan escaping him and it's such a damn turn-on.

“ _Jee-sus_ , fuck, Jamie,” he pants, slowly moving into me. He sinks himself deeper and soon our heavy exhales match the rhythm of his slick thrusts.

He fucks me with these slow, possessive strokes -- of someone with a deep-seated ache that's spiraled for weeks and this is exactly everything we need. This connection fucking consumes us both. When we're like this, we belong entirely to each other.

I let him have me however he wants, moving my leg out, pushing a strong hand into my shoulder blade. He gets loud. And the loss of control, the grit of his swears, his grip digging into my skin is so satisfying.

Swallowing a rough growl, he eases up and slows his pace. Then he pulls back and guides himself out of me before I feel him tip his weight and he comes on my back.

I hear his breath hesitate before the air rushes from his chest and he finishes with a shuddering few twitches before he completely gives at my side.

The both of us just collapse. Nothing but heavy breath from either one of us that gradually shifts into spent groans.

“God  _damn_ , Jay.” He manages.

“Me? I didn't do anything.”

“Oh you definitely did.” He laughs and shifts on his back, letting an arm fall overhead onto the bed.

I turn and watch the hard rise and fall of his chest. “That was all you.”

With a curvy smile that I’ve missed, he starts to sit up. “Wrong. I'll be back. And then we can talk about what we want to do today.”

I watch him get off the bed and begin to make his way to the bathroom as I call out, “Can we talk about that tan line?”

Noble lifts his hands and glances down at himself, at the distinct low divide between the sun-kissed brown of his torso and the pale skin farther below that stops where the hem of his shorts would have fallen.

I approve, “You look good sailor.”

And I don't miss the cute little smirk that he tries to deny before he turns out of the room.


	31. Chapter 31

“Up since four-thirty?” I question, a sympathetic scrunch to my cheek. I duck into a clean t-shirt and pull it down and move over to the nightstand.

“Yeah, I’m not a fan.” Noble says. “We could only get the early flight.”

“Well I do like you here this early.” I smile at him, securing the band on my watch.

“Me too,” he murmurs with a smirk before he leans in and presses a kiss on my cheek. “We have all day. That is a perk.”

“Do you need to go get some sleep then?” I offer.

He considers the shirt in his hand that he’s about to put on, as if he’s weighing it against the option of getting into bed. “I couldn’t really sleep now, but--” Then he tosses the shirt aside before he flops onto my bed which we just made with fresh sheets.

Unable to resist, I make my way onto the bed beside him and let my weight settle there.

“So Bianca thinks she has this whole night planned out, just so you’re aware,” he informs me.

“Oh really? Well is she aware that Vinny wants to hang out with us tonight?”

Shifting to rest his head back against the inside of my shoulder, he glances up at me. “He does?”

“Yeah. He wants to meet you.” I drag the hand that’s resting across the bed along his arm, idle fingers tracing a path there.

Noble pushes himself up a little, questioning this with the quirk of an eyebrow.

“Is that okay?” I wonder.

“Yeah.” He nods as if to process it and a gradual smile surfaces, along with a nervous slant to his brow. “Oh shit--”

“It’s fine,” I assure him.

“I haven’t like, met anyone from your life yet.”

“I know.” My eyes flash. “Vinny’s a good place to start.”

“You’ve told me a little about him,” he muses, settling back down on me. “How much does he know? About me?”

“I’ve told him the basics of that undercover. How I got the assignment.” My touch combs through his soft hair. “He knows you testified and what some of the charges were against your family--”

Noble inhales deep, holds it for a beat, and then blows the breath out hard between puffed cheeks. “Cool,” he manages.

“He knows--” I continue. “That I’m really into you. And he suspected it before I ever even told him I was seeing someone.”

“What?” He tips his head to look at me. “You? You made it evident?”

“Apparently.”

“Oh-ho-ho--” he chuckles. “I’ll have to question him about that.”

“Mm.” I hum, my fingertips digging into his shoulder. “But it’ll be good. We’re not gonna sit around and talk about that case, I promise. He’s a really good guy. Funny, laid back,” I list to ease his concerns. “You’ll like him. And he’ll like you. Everybody likes you.”

He looks at me again, a hopeful shine in his eyes and pauses a thoughtful beat.  “What do you think about Bianca being back?” He wonders

I return the question. “Well what does  _she_ think about it?”

“I think she got pretty anxious once we were about to land.”

With a nod, I consider it. “What's she doing while you're over here?”

“Getting a massage and probably a bunch of other crap at the hotel spa.” He laughs and stretches against me. “So hopefully she's forgotten about everything. She can't reach out to anyone, though, and I know that's the hardest part. She gets all sentimental and wants to go like, visit the girl who used to cut her hair or her favorite diner or whatever and I have to reel her in.”

“So what's her plan for us tonight then?”

Noble peers up at me, a slant at his lips. “All I know is it involves bowling.”

“Bowling?”

He holds up his hands as if he claims no involvement. “Look. It’s her first time back to the city. I told her it was her trip.”

“Aww--”

“Yeah, yeah.” He finds my hand and brings it lower over his shoulder, sliding his own palm beneath mine. “I gotta steer her away from any of her old hangouts.”

“No, I like bowling.” I shrug, watching my fingers stroke between his.

“Really? Because I’m an excellent bowler.”

I laugh, exhaling a skeptical puff of air. “We’ll see about that. Where is this place?”

“The Village somewhere.”  
With a smirk, I drag my fingertips down his open palm. “What do I get if I beat you?”

“Let me think about that so I can plan it to my advantage.”

* * *

 

“I can't guarantee how good this is after a twenty minute cab ride,” I announce, making my way into Noble's penthouse with two pizza boxes from Lucali in my arms.

“Oh my god, I don't care! I'm so excited.” I hear Bianca shout from some place further inside. “I'll stick it in the microwave if I have to.”

I let out a happy laugh at the sound of her voice and round the corner into the kitchen. Then glancing over, I see Noble get up from the couch in the living room to meet me.

With a face of disapproval, he turns to call back, “Put pizza in the microwave? See what Florida does to people?” Then he offers me a smirk and that smooth voice of his. “Hey you.”

“Hi.” I slide the pizza boxes onto the counter and turn to him. Gesturing further into the apartment, my brow furrows. “Where is she?”

“Getting ready.”

Nodding I lean into his kiss.

He holds a hand at the edge of my jaw before it slips to the back of my head. I grip him firmly at his sides, smiling against his lips at the way he playfully backs me into the edge of the counter.

I fight back with a squeeze at his waist that makes him flinch and he falls away with a surprised chuckle.

Reaching out, he swipes the side of his thumb across my cheek. I know it's him approving of a fresh shave and he presses one more kiss there before he moves past me. “Mm. You look good.”

“Thank you. So do you.” Glancing down, I appreciate the well-fitting dress shirt he wears untucked over jeans, a standard look for him but always an attractive one.

“You want a glass of wine?”

“Sure.”

While I take off my coat, Noble reaches into the cabinet to pull down a few glasses.

“Hello, hello!” I hear Bianca call, her quick steps bringing her out from the far hallway.

“Well hey,” I greet her as she approaches for a hug.

She stretches to swing her arms around my neck. “I’m not dressed yet.”

“Oh, I thought that’s what you’re wearing to go bowling,” I remark, leaving her with a squeeze before I step away and note the fluffy, short white bathrobe she wears, cinched at the waist.

“Maybe I should.” Flitting thick black eyelashes, she presents herself. “It’s a look.” Then she gasps, turning her attention to the counter where she lays her fingertips on the edge of the box there. “Jamie…”

I have to laugh at how affected she is by this pizza from home when she lifts open the lid and squeaks a little.

“Here you go, Belle.” Noble passes a glass of red wine her way, then hands one to me.

“I might get emotional,” Bianca warns and her brother cuts her an unimpressed gaze. She scoots the box to show off the classic black, white and red design on the lid and offers a pretend pouty lip. “Noble look--”

“It’s just pizza.” He points. “We’re leaving tomorrow and you can’t get like this.”

I scoff, looking over to narrow my eyes at him. “Um. I think someone else was pretty excited when I offered to pick this up and bring it over tonight.”

He holds up an innocent hand as he swallows a sip of his wine. “I never claimed to be emotional about it.”

My brow draws together, feigning insult. “It’s  _just pizza_?” I question.

He acknowledges the regret with a tilt of his head. “That was out of line, I know.”

With a laugh, I move past him to get to some plates.

* * *

Sitting in the living room after finishing up dinner, Noble and I wait on Bianca to get ready. We hear her making her way around the guest bedroom, heels knocking the floor with her steps until finally she emerges from the hallway.

“What do you mean  _partner_? I thought that was you!” She questions.

Noble tips his head to roll his eyes from the armchair where he’s waiting. “No, his  _work_ partner.”

“Wait, now we’re going out with  _two_ cops?” She comes closer into the room while she secures an earring, actually dressed this time in tight black jeans, tall boots and a black sweater.

I look over at her. “What’s wrong with that?”

She offers up this concerned face then rests her hands on her hips. “I don’t know. It just makes me nervous. What all does he know?”

“Just act like you’re meeting anyone else,” I tell her.

With the pull of her cheek, she sticks her tongue out as if that advice is hardly appealing.

“After you,” I go on. “He was the first person I told about Noble and me. And yeah, a little about the case. But we’re not gonna talk about it.”

Bianca draws in a deep inhale. “Alright, are you guys ready then?”

“We’ve been ready,” Noble insists. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.” She shakes out her hair, flipping it out of the back of her sweater and turns away. As she walks down the hall to turn out the light, she calls out, “So is he cute?”

“No!” I shout back.

Noble turns off the TV and lets out a heavy laugh as he stands up.

When Bianca returns, she pauses at the dining room table to fit her phone inside her purse. A mischievous smile plays at her lips. “No?”

“Just-- no.”

“Is he straight?” She questions.

“He’s too straight,” I tell her as we move to get our coats on. “And you’re not going there.”


	32. Chapter 32

Bianca’s about to cut the circulation off in her fingertip the way she’s absently wrapping her cocktail straw around it. Glancing up past my shoulder, she flicks her gaze all around the bar, a sectioned-off corner of Perry Street Lanes. There, she passes fidgety time at a high top table with Noble and me while we wait for them to call us for an available bowling lane.

“Hey--” Noble starts, leaning in to get her attention. “You alright?”

She presses her lips together and lets her focus land on him. “Mm-hm.”

Casually, Noble turns in his chair to look behind him. “You’re okay,” he assures her. “You know that, right?”

The anxious unknown had finally invaded her thoughts, taking over. The reality is setting in that she’s back in the city that raised her and then swiftly crumbled around her, ensuring she could never come home to it again.

“Yeah,” she answers airily before her brow dips and she look at me for confirmation. “Right?”

My gradual smile relieves her. “You’re fine,” I tell her with a certain nod.

“It’s just weird, you know?” She scrunches her nose as she finally lets her attention settle. She lets go of the twisted plastic straw, flicking it to the table. “I keep thinking I see people. For a minute, I swore that was Bobby working behind he shoe counter.”

I have to laugh as I reach for my drink.

“I was like that for a while,” Noble shares. “You’ll start to trust everything again, I promise. And if anything were to happen, Jamie and I will kick their ass and save the day.”

Tilting her head, she blinks at him, unconvinced. “Oh, is that right?” Then she shifts her gaze over to me and I answer her with a teasing shake of my head while I point to my own chest, as if to let her know I got it.

“Alright Jamie will save the day,” he clarifies. “But I’ve got a Swiss Army knife if it comes to that.”

I chuckle. “That’s right.”

“Reagan!” I hear my name over the crash of pins and bowling balls and glance up to see Vinny make his way over.

Lifting my chin in a nod to him, I look to Noble and his sister for a second to make sure they’re not caught off guard. “Hey.”

“What’s up man,” he greets, catching my hand in an easy slap before he smiles over at our company. “Hey I’m Vinny.” He takes the lead on introducing himself, to Noble first who steps down off his stool.

“Nick.” He smiles, that way that he does that makes his eyes shine lighter and moves to grasp Vinny’s hand. “How’s it going?”

“I feel like I need a hug, Nick.” Vinny pulls him in at the handshake to slap one arm around Noble’s back and he obliges with that heavy laugh of his. “Jamie talks about you all the time. We’re past handshakes,” Vinny reasons.

“Alright--” I cut my partner off before he can’t attempt to embarrass me.

Amused, Noble pulls away and gestures to Bianca. “This is my sister, Bella.”

“Bella. Vinny, nice to meet you.” Vinny’s noticeably more subdued with her, offering a simple handshake. “You guys been waiting long?”

“Nah. Join us.” Noble gestures to the table, the empty seat beside Bianca. “We’re just waiting for our lane.”

“Alright Reagan--” Vinny starts, pulling off his leather jacket before he pulls out a chair. “I don’t mean to talk shop right out the gate, but I got an update on your girl we arrested yesterday in the park.”

I ponder it for a second. “Those high school girls smoking pot?”

“ _You don’t know who my father is_ ,” he reminds me.

“Ah, right.” I nod. “Let's hear it.”

“Mayor Levitt’s daughter.”

My eyes close and I left my chin with a quick nod of realization. “Rebecca Levitt.” I recite the name to piece together that the former New York City Mayor's teenage daughter was the entitled kid sharing a joint in the park with her friend who might as well have dared us to arrest her.

“Oh shit!” Noble chimes in with a hearty chuckle.

Bianca holds out a questioning hand, confusion drawn across her forehead. “Wait you arrested kids for smoking pot in the park?”

Vinny points a finger as he turns to her. “You gonna ask us if we have any real criminals to catch too?”

“No.” She smirks in amusement. “But damn. That's harsh, that's all.”

“It's not harsh,” Vinny contends. “It's called consequences.”

“Ohhh-kay,” Bianca stops him there with an exaggerated eyeroll.

He shrugs. “Some people never had any in their life and you can tell.”

“Yeah but is it  _on you_  to teach kids a lesson?” She questions.

“No, it's on us to enforce the law.”

“Well correct me if I'm wrong. But hasn't Poole put an end to those arrests--”

“No,” Vinny asserts.

She goes on anyway. “And it was just a matter of giving them a ticket? What, did you go and handcuff the poor girls?”

I clarify. “It was technically possession and they were underage anyway--”

“The poor girls,” Vinny groans, echoing her sentiment as he pushes a palm against his chest. “Oh my heart. How do I sleep at night?”

“I mean, what were they gonna do?” She challenges. “The most dangerous thing I ever did stoned was eat a bunch of Nilla wafers and cut my own hair--”

“Belle--” Noble interrupts despite the both of us sputtering a surprised laugh. “You really wanna start this debate with two cops?”

“It's not our job to determine what they  _might_ do.” Vinny shrugs. “Besides, it's Levitt’s daughter, they’ll probably drop it.”

With an agreeable nod that lets him know he’s probably right, I meet the rim of my glass for a drink.

Finally, Vinny chuckles and I see his interested brow dip as he assesses Bianca beside him. “I see you. You're a little stoner, huh?”

“No!” She shoots him an indignant look, cutting the blaze of her eyes his way.

“You're a bad girl, it's okay,” he supposes and I see his gaze fall when the corner of his smile flicks.

Bianca swipes a finger across the air and stops it in front of his mouth. “First of all, you can keep those brown eyes in check because I'm not into cops.”

His head pulls back in surprise and that smirk curves a little more. “Neither am I.”

“And second. I don't have some kinda daddy issues, so calling me a  _bad girl_  isn't gonna do anything for me. You can drop that.”

“Oh-ho!” My immediate loud reaction tips my head back a little and I have to crack up and Bianca’s complete shutdown of Vinny’s bullshit.

With a nod that's almost impressed, he looks at me and presses his lips together.

“You copy that, Cruz?” I wonder with a furrowed brow.

He blinks hard and simply complies, “Copy that.”

Just then, Noble claps his hands together and starts to push back his chair. “Vinny needs a drink,” he decides. “Come on, man.”

“Let’s do it,” he agrees with a smile, moving from the table where Noble slaps him on the back and they start toward the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun canon fact! The season 1 mayor changed names between S1 and S3 which is hilarious and par for the continuity course on this show. In S1, he’s Frank Russo and in S3, he’s Robert Levitt -- both the same actor. There is a reference to him here (and to a Jamie-Vinny plot line in episode 3x14) and I went with Levitt.


	33. Chapter 33

"Lowest score…" Bianca muses, leaning over in her plastic chair as she ties her red and blue bowling shoes. "Has to sing karaoke."

"What?" I scoff without even looking back at her while I work to enter everyone's names for the scoreboard.

"Where the hell do you think you're singing karaoke tonight?" Noble wonders.

"At a gay bar called Mary's over on Waverly--"

"Whoa, wait a minute." I turn in my seat to hold out one hand while Vinny lets out a loud laugh beside me.

Bianca manages a pleading grin. "Come on."

"We're not going to a gay bar, Belle."

She opens her mouth as if she's never been so let down. "Why not? They’re fun. Haven't you always wanted to?"

With a shake of my head, I have to laugh down at the screen where I'm typing. "Not particularly."

"Hey, I'm down," Vinny offers. "Plus, I'm gonna win anyway so I need to see Reagan on that mic."

Tilting my head, I narrow my gaze at him. "Oh, you're  _down_? Give me a break."

"What?" He shrugs. "A bar is a bar. You're telling me you're all uptight about it?"

"I'm not uptight," I insist.

"I can almost guarantee we wouldn't see anyone we know there." Bianca points out as she gets to her feet. "Nick, didn't you say we've gotta keep a low profile? It's perfect."

"Karaoke at a gay bar is the opposite of a low profile," he argues.

"Not when we're talking about the kinda people who may know us."

With folded arms, Noble shifts his gaze to me. I simply meet it with this look of resigned acceptance because whatever, it's Bianca's trip here and there's no use trying to keep a firm grip on what happens tonight. She'll just fight it even harder.

He moves away to the ball return and glances over at her. "How  _gay_ are we talking here?"

"Oh please!" She scoffs with a laugh. "Since when do you care? Although…" Then she pauses and points a look and an arched eyebrow at me.

I turn my head, confused. "What?"

"Jamie will be like shark bait over there, so just be prepared."

Noble spreads his hands. "You think I don't know that?"

"Wait, what does that mean?"

"The crowd there--" Then she waves her hand in front of me. "Will just… be a fan."

Pointing to myself, I shake my head. "Oh I'm not singing."

"Not a fan of your singing, Jamie." She clarifies. "Don't play dumb."

I check with Noble because I still don't get it.

"Because you're hot, dude," he informs me. "That's all."

"Oh." My gaze shifts as I consider it. Then I stand, making a point to broaden my chest as I offer my boyfriend a smile. "We should go then, man."

With a start, Noble juts out a fist into my arm. "Little shit."

Chuckling, I return the jab at his shoulder and pivot away.

"Whoa." Vinny looks to Bianca with an insulted pull of his brows. "You saying the crowd won't be a fan of me?"

I watch the way she smirks as she turns to him. "Depends on how good of a singer you are, I guess."

"Oh I won't need to sing," he remarks, gesturing up above to the scoreboard with our names. "Because according to that, I'm gonna be on top."

She plants her hands on her hips and blinks up at the screen. "I don't know how that'll work when I'll be the one on top tonight."

"Ayee--" Vinny blows out an amused, weary groan and turns away to Bianca's giggles.

"I feel like you guys aren't talking about bowling," Noble ponders.

Vinny points to her. "Hey, I don't know about this one. Your sister told me to keep myself in check. But--”

"Well listen," Noble cuts in. "That's a bullshit bet, Belle. Because you'll sing karaoke regardless."

"Lowest score has to sing,” she amends. “Winner gets to pick the song.”

"Alright, can we play?" I cut in, heading for my ball to take the first turn.

Noble slants a knowing smile at me. "Look who wants to get to the bar to see how popular he is with the West Village crowd."

"Excuse me," I tease, reaching across where my fingers grip the bright red ball I had picked on the way over. I lift it out of the rack, and with a subtle grunt, make a show of straining my biceps as if I'm using the ball for a set of curls.  

"Don't hurt yourself," Noble quips.

I meet his teasing gaze. "My name's first and I'd like to get this game started."

"Do we all agree on the bet?" Bianca calls out.

"Yes, it's a bet," I concede, along with everyone else's acquiescence.

"Alright, let's see it, Reagan," Vinny decides. "Make the Twelfth look good."

Positioned behind the lane, I turn to hold out one arm and look at him. "I do that everyday, man."

"Oh jeez," Vinny groans. "He's in rare form tonight."

Amused by his heckling, I fix my focus on the lane's target arrows, take my approach and send the ball down the lane. I watch it charge towards the pins where it crashes against them, toppling over all but four.

"That's alright," Noble calls out, offering an unnecessarily loud clap of his hands. "You looked cute, at least. And that's important."

Backtracking to retrieve my ball, I shake my head at him to resist a smile. "You're gonna regret that kinda talk this early in the game," I warn him.

He fakes this clueless look. "I'm being supportive."

Firmly grasping my ball once more, I position myself to take the spare. With a few solid steps, I send the ball hurtling down the lane once again before it misses the remaining pins completely and disappears behind the pin deck.

With a hard smack of my palms, I turn away, clenching my fist in frustration only to laugh at myself. "The first frame's a throwaway turn," I insist to Vinny who's cracking up at me.

"Man, look at that," Noble muses. "Right through that empty space. If the object were to throw it in the exact same place you threw the first one, this would be your game."

I come closer to him. "Watch it."

"But on the second turn," he goes on, the corner of his lips quirking when he looks at me. "You wanna aim for the ones you missed the first time."

"Ohh…" I lift my chin to play along. "I see."

"Damn Reagan," Vinny shouts. "What if those pins had been an armed perp?"

"Well the next time we take out a perp with a bowling ball, I'll let you aim."

"Shake it off," Noble offers as he takes his orange ball to the approach for his turn.

He lines up, steps to the foul line as he swings his arm and fires the ball down the lane. It's a swift defeat of all ten pins.

"Nice," Vinny approves.

Noble turns, pumping a flexed arm at his side, then points up at the screen above to note the giant X celebrating his strike. "See you're supposed to knock them  _all_ down. Rather than just… six--”

"Go get me another damn drink," I instruct him.

He sets an amused smirk on me and I don't miss the flash of his eyes, the twitch of satisfaction at his cheek. "I can do that for you." Leaving me with a slap on the back, he passes by and heads to the bar.

"Okay, me!" Bianca announces as she hops up to grab her neon purple ball. After a little hesitation deciding her approach, she flings the ball forward where it arcs across the lane.

"No, you dumb fuck!" She shouts, crouching down to watch it dump right into the gutter there at the end.

Both Vinny and I sputter a laugh, more for her performance than her gutter ball. I'm just glad the kids birthday party that was here earlier had made its way out and the bowling alley had shifted to service only the late night adult idiots like us.

Bianca finishes off her turn with an exasperated groan over another gutter ball she barely even tried to throw straight.

"First frame's a throwaway, right?" She reminds us.

"There you go." Vinny takes his place for a turn. "I'm not gonna lie. I haven't bowled since I was like ten, so--"

"Oh now with the excuses," Bianca teases. "What happened to being on top?"

"I thought that was you," he calls back, slanting a smile her way over his shoulder.

"I don't know," she laughs, peering up at the scoreboard. "It's not looking good for me."

He pulls back as he takes his steps, releases the ball with a forceful swing and it barrels right into the sweet spot to send down every single pin.

"Goddammit." I mutter the curse.

Vinny turns with a firm clench of one arm. "Ha! You see that?"

" _Haven't bowled since I was ten_ ," I mimic him, shaking my head.

He spreads his arms like he doesn't have an explanation. "I guess some people know exactly where to hit it, Reagan." As he passes by, he grips my shoulders hard and pats me there before he moves back to his chair beside Bianca.

"Really?" I arch a critical brow at him and his smug face. "That's not what I've heard."

"Listen, six," he retorts, pointing his beer bottle at me. “One day you’ll get there.”

Noble returns with a new drink for me while he takes a look at the score and gives Vinny a nod of approval. "Oh nice."

"You like that, Nick?"

Downing some of my cocktail with a hard swallow, I decide, “Okay, I’m playing for real.” Then I set the cup on the table and move to get my ball for another turn.

Taking an extra moment to set my focus down the lane, my steps carry me forward and with a perfectly controlled swoop of my arm, I propel the ball down the center.

It crashes all ten pins down for a strike.

"There he is!" Noble shouts. “Coming alive in the second frame.”

Just as my X spins across the screen in animated graphics, the bowling alley darkens to a neon glow, eliciting a lively howl of approval from the surrounding lanes. Black lights make the pins purple, the retro designs along the wall shine in greens and pinks and disco strobes cut across the floor. The opening beat of  _Need You Tonight_  by INXS thuds the speakers surrounding us.

“Oh, it’s a game now,” Vinny announces.

And for a while, it’s anybody’s to win. Noble keeps his lead for a few frames until I catch up. It shakes his confidence and he has an off couple of turns. Meanwhile, Vinny’s initial strike proves to be a fluke when he bombs pretty much every subsequent frame.

Halfway through the game, I have to laugh at the scoreboard. “This is looking bleak, partner,” I inform him when his score hasn’t gone anywhere and Bianca trails behind him by merely two points. “What happened to knowing where to hit it?”

From his seat, Vinny hangs his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with his amusement. “Maybe bowling’s not my game,” he decides.

I step up and grip my ball. “Bella, I need you to take him down,” I tell her. “Because I’ve always wanted to hear him sing and I need to decide on the perfect song.”

“Yes!” Bianca drags out the approval, then taps her fist on Vinny’s knee. “I’m excited.”

“I’m terrible, but you’re worse,” he admits, pointing his thumb to her shoulder and she turns her face to crack up there. “So I’m safe so long as you keep throwing them in the gutter.”

"I have a strategy!" She insists.

“Oh yeah?” He laughs. "How’s that working out for you?” But then they both seem to turn their attention to the fact that the deejay just started playing Michael Jackson’s  _PYT_ and the two of them just wind up dancing in their seats.

I shake my head, amused and move over to take my turn. This time I knock down eight, but follow it up with the spare which puts me ahead of Noble.

When I back up to look at the score, I push my fist against Noble’s shoulder and dig my teeth into my lower lip in satisfaction. “Tell me it hurts just a little bit,” I say, then gesture to my chest. “I need to hear it.”

In the pink and violet lights, he grins at me and it’s damn attractive. “I bet you  _do_ need to hear it.”

My gaze follows him as he comes closer. We’ve never really been out with a group,  _as a couple_  and there’s still some uncertainty between us when it comes to how much we’re allowed to act like it.

I tilt my face down as he leans into my ear and murmurs, “You look really fucking cute tonight and I love you and I just needed you to know that.” Then he eases away, scratching the back of his head and adds, “And it hurts a little bit” as he gets ready for his turn.

Lifting my gaze to him, I thankful for the dim lights because I can feel the color in my cheeks when I shoot him a wordless look and press my lips together.  _Goddamn_ , he so easily prompts this heat that dips in heavy loops inside me that I still never anticipate.  

“Don’t get used to that lead, though,” he says, pointing up to the score as he heads for his ball.


	34. Chapter 34

“Am I reading into things--” Noble wonders the question aloud as we trail a few steps behind Vinny and Bianca down West Fourth Street. “Or is that happening?”

Scrutinizing the pair in front of us -- Noble’s sister and my partner, I watch them walk together. Their body language is fairly ordinary for two people having a conversation. But then again, I hadn’t really considered the possibilities so I’ve probably missed any signs that they could be into one another.

“I don’t know,” I murmur. “Vinny’s not as much of a horny jackass tonight which is sort of surprising.”

Noble considers it with a nod while he watches them. He tilts his head when his sister elbows Vinny in the side prompting a laugh as he tips his face to the sky. “Maybe he’s not interested,” Noble proposes, “so he’s toned down.”

“Or maybe he is interested, and he’s making an effort--” I theorize. Then I glance over to gauge Noble’s reaction to that idea. "What do you think about that?”

“No.” He cuts a decisive shake of his head. “That’s not happening. I mean, we’re here for a day, it's not like they can exactly get attached.”

I have to laugh as I look over at him. “Huh. I feel like I told myself the same thing just a few months ago.”

“Don’t even compare.” He points. “We're a different story.”

Smiling down at the ground, I shake my head. Then my hand wanders over to his to remind him that we definitely are, and I graze his palm with the tip of my finger.

He lifts his arm in response, slinging it around my shoulders where he pulls me in closer and presses a hard kiss on the side of my head. The move charms me, I won’t deny it and for a moment I bump my face against his shoulder.

“Are you having fun?” He wonders.

“Yes.” I look over at him. “How about you?”

“I would have fun with you--” His arm slips down my back and he sinks his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “--Waiting for the train, dude. You’re like, my favorite.”

Amusement tugs at my cheeks and I exhale a cloudy breath into the chilled late night air. “Oh my god.”

“But tonight, definitely yes." Then he lets out a deep sigh. "Nights like these make me miss New York though."

I know what he means. Something about the mood of the city at night. It can't be matched, even by Miami's energy. Plus when we're together, I think it's easy to forget the demons that once haunted him here.

I admire the quiet street. Christmas lights remain in most of the windows, glowing white from bare tree branches and even though this is my city, I feel the longing too. "I really like this neighborhood," I notice.

"I do too. Maybe we'll get mugged or something so that I can quit wishing I lived here."

"Okay," I laugh. "That's a good solution."

"Hey!" Bianca calls out ahead of us, turning to point toward the corner. "Down here, right?"

"It's your place, I don't know." Noble shrugs and calls after her.

"No. What's gonna happen," I tell him as we catch up to them. "Is Vinny's gonna sing karaoke at this bar and none of us will ever be able to show our face in this neighborhood again."

"Y'all can keep saying it--" Vinny pipes up, slowing down to turn and address us. "But I'm not singing. I'm a spectator only."

"You have to!" Bianca insists.

" _You_ have to." He stops at the door for Mary's and tugs at the handle, backing up a step to let her in first.

"You both lost," I reason as I pass through the entrance, retrieving my wallet for the bouncer checking ID's at the door.

Vinny follows in behind us attempting to argue, "We tied. So officially no one lost."

"I can't believe we tied," Bianca notes.

"Sixty-four--"

Vinny's quick to brush off Noble's reminder of their score. " _Alright_. Damn."

Navigating the bar, I check out its walls decorated with framed, autographed celebrity headshots who've presumably visited along with random neon signs, album covers and vintage looking photographs. We pass through the mostly tame -- but noticeably heavy on the guys -- crowd and score a high top table for the four of us. 

At the front, a deejay -- who Noble observes looks like a slightly more strung out Sammy Hagar -- works to secure his karaoke setup, two microphone stands, a screen and the sound system take over the front of the bar.

After a cocktail server gets our drink orders, Bianca hops down from her seat, announcing, "I'm going to put my name on the list!"

With a shake of his head, Noble watches her go. "I hope you guys are ready for this epic setlist she's planning in her head." Then he leans onto his forearms on the table across from my partner.  "So Vinny. Did you grow up in New York?"

He nods. "Brooklyn born and raised."

"What part?"

"Flatbush."

"Nice," Noble comments.

Vinny chuckles. "Not really."

"You always wanted to be a cop?"

"Always?" Vinny considers it. "No. I mean, it was either shortstop for the Mets or cop. And the streets needed me, so--"

"You made the right call," I remark as Bianca comes back and slides into her seat beside Vinny.

"The Mets are regretting it, but that’s their loss," he shrugs. "No, I uh--" Vinny starts, peering down for a moment at the table. He picks up the cardboard drink coaster in front if him and mindlessly plays with it. "When I was fifteen, I lost my cousin Emilio. He was shot right next to me hanging outside the basketball courts on our block."

Propping my elbow on the table, I run a hand along my jawline while I listen. I know this story but it still clenches my gut a little to hear it again.

"He was like my best friend. But. Y'know, in that neighborhood a lot of people felt like there was no way out. And running with a crew was your only choice."

"You were standing right there?" Bianca asks.

With this sort of far away look, he nods slowly. "After, I just… refused to end up like that. I didn't want to be another kid from the projects getting caught up in that shit. It's too easy."

The bartender returns with a tray of drinks, setting the glasses out in front of us.

"I was lucky. I have good parents," Vinny goes on. "My dad's a barber. My mom… she used to work at a clinic. They pushed me, they were on my ass. I wanted to do right by my family. By Emilio. So… John Jay, then the Academy."

Wrapping up his recap, he laughs softly then gestures to me. "And now I get to make the Commissioner's son look good and it all turned out alright."

With a knowing smirk, I nod. "I appreciate that."

"Your mom…" Bianca starts with some hesitation. " _Used_ to work at a clinic--"

He swallows a hard gulp of his drink and exhales. "Oh yeah. She went back to school and now she's a nurse," Vinny explains. "And they moved to Washington Heights."

"Aww--" Her face lights up and she grins in relief, as if she'd been holding her breath his entire story. "That's sweet."

"So there's the life story nobody asked for," he finishes.

"Is your dad still a barber?" She wonders.

Vinny leans closer to her, dipping his head. "Hell yeah, girl. Check that fresh cut."

Reaching over, she lightly scratches fingertips over the back of his neck, right at his hairline. "Your dad cuts your hair?"

He lifts his head to look at her and when he does, I feel Noble bump his leg into mine beside me. I don’t want to watch this exchange, but my attention just sort of helplessly settles on them.

"Yep," Vinny answers.

She bobs her chin toward the front of the bar. "You ready to go sing with me?"

"Nope."

"You…" With her face right in front of his, she draws her fingertip just over his cheek but doesn't touch him. "Have these little freckles right below your eye that I just noticed."

"Mm-hm." He hums at her with this look, and a falling gaze that I can see from here.

"And they're cute," she tells him.

"I'm not singing."

Bianca’s tongue teases the edge of her teeth. "Please."

"Keep trying to convince me, though,” he says. “I like it."

With a huff, she shoves a hand against his thigh and turns once more toward the table for her drink.

"Say  _please_ again.” He motions to himself. “But like, use my name with it--"

"Shut up." She laughs into her glass.

Noble looks down at his drink, muttering, "Ah shit" before he goes for a hearty gulp.

"You alright?" I question.

"No."

"It's one night." I remind him of his own excuse. "Are you gonna spend all night stressing about your sister instead of having fun with me?"

"I'm not stressing."

Hitching my elbow on the back of my chair, I pretend to glance around. "Because damn, there's plenty of guys here--"

"Hey--" He cuts me off and the deep, sharp note of it makes one of my eyebrows jump.

I dig my teeth into my lower lip and bite back a smile.

He looks at me just as the music overhead fades out and the deejay takes to the makeshift stage to get the karaoke underway. The track’s bongos and jingling tambourine notes announce the intro to  _Freedom_ by George Michael and the deejay starts off the night with himself as the opener.

“Jesus,” Noble murmurs with a laugh. “You’re right. It’s one night, who cares? But--” Then he brings his glass to his lips for a drink and after a heavy swallow, gestures toward the microphones and announces, “This is gonna be pretty terrible so we need to go ahead and order another round.”

“Yes, I agree.” Vinny points back to him. “I’ll order us some shots.”


End file.
